JT  r 


SMITHS 


PACIFIC 

BKACH.  OALIF 


THE  COLOSSUS 

A  NOVEL 


BY 

OPIE  READ 


Author   of   "The  Carpetbagger,"   "Old   Ebenezer, 

"The  Jucklins,"  "My  Young  Master,"  "On  the 

Suwanee  River,"   "A  Kentucky  Colonel," 

"Emmett     Bonlore,"     "A     Tennessee 

Judge,"     "The     Wives     of     the 

Prophet,"  "Len  Gansett,"  "The 

Tear    in    the    Cup    and 

Other  Stories. 


CHICAGO 

IA1RD  &  LEE,  PUBLISHED 


COPTEIGHT,  1893, 

BY   OPIE    READ. 
(All  rights  reserved.) 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter.  PAGE. 

I.    LOOKING  BACK  AT  EABLY  LIFE 7 

II.    A  SLEKPY  VILLAGE  AND  A  FUSSY  OLD  MAN 13 

III.  ALL  WAS  DAEKNESS 13 

IV.  A  STBANGE  REQUEST 26 

V.    DISSECTING  A  MOTIVK :?4 

VI.    WAITING  AT  THE  STATION 37 

VII.    A  MOTHER'S  AFFECTION 46 

VIII.    THE  DOMAIN  OF  A  GREAT  MERCHANT 49 

IX.    THE  INTERVIEWEES 65 

X.    ROMPED  WITH  THE  GIRL 73 

XI.    ACKNOWLEDGED  BY  SOCIETY 81 

XII.    A  DEMOCRACY 84 

XIII.  BUTTING  AGAINST  A  WALL 100 

XIV.  A  DIFFERENT  HANDWRITING 1 106 

XV.    TOLD  HIM  HER  STORY Ill 

XVI.    AN  AROUSEB  OF  THE  SLEEPY 117 

XVII.    AN  OLD  MAN  WOULD  INVEST 126 

XVIII.    THE  INVESTMENT 133 

XIX.    ARRESTED  EVERYWHERE 136 

XX.    CBIED  A  SENSATION 148 

XXI.    A  HELPLESS  OLD  WOMAN 153 

XXII.    ToGooNAVisiT 159 

XXIII.  HENRY'S  INCONSISTENCY 164 

XXIV.  WORE  A  ROSE  ON  His  COAT 168 

XXV.    IMPATIENTLY  WAITING 177 

XXVI.    TOLD  IT  ALL 18a 

XXVII.    POINTS  OUT  HER  BROTHER'S  DUTY - 1 9i 

XXVIII.    THE  VERDICT 200 

XXIX.    ADAYOFREST 207 

XXX.    A  MOTHER'S  REQUEST -  212 

XXXI.    A  MOMENT  OF  ARROGANCE 2i9 

XXXII.    A  MOST  PECULIAR  FELLOW 231 

XXXIII.  THE  TIME  WAS  DRAWING  NEAR 237 

XXXIV.  TOLD  HIM  A  STOBY 245 

XXXV.    CONCLUSION.., 252 


2062003 


THE  COLOSSUS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

LOOKING   BACK  AT   EARLY  LIFE. 

WHEN  the  slow  years  of  youth  were  gone  and  the 
hastening  time  of  manhood  had  come,  the  first 
thing  that  Henry  DeGolyer,  looking  back,  could  call 
from  a  myt  kerious  darkness  into  the  dawn  of  memory 
was  that  h  3  awoke  one  night  in  the  cold  arms  of  his 
dead  mothe  \  That  was  in  New  Orleans.  The  boy's 
father  had  aspired  to  put  the  face  of  man  upon  lasting 
canvas,  but  appetite  invited  whisky  to  mix  with  his  art, 
and  so  upon  dead  walls  he  painted  the  trade-mark  bull, 
and  in  front  of  museums  he  exaggerated  the  distortion 
of  the  human  freak. 

After  the  death  of  his  mother,  the  boy  was  taken  to 
the  Foundlings'  Home,  where  he  was  scolded  by  women 
and  occasionally  knocked  down  by  a  vagabond  older 
than  himself.  Here  he  remembered  to  have  seen  his 
father  but  once.  It  was  a  Sunday  when  he  came,  years 
after  the  gentle  creature,  holding  her  child  in  her  arms, 
had  died  at  midnight.  The  painter  laughed  and  cried 
and  begged  an  old  woman  for  a  drink  of  brandy.  He 
went  away,  and  after  an  age  had  seemed  to  pass  the 
matron  of  the  place  took  the  boy  on  her  lap  and  told 


8  THE  COLOSSUS. 

him  that  his  father  was  dead,  and  then,  putting  him 
down,  she  added  :     "Run  along,  now,  and  be  good." 

The  boy  was  taken  by  an  old  Italian  woman.  In 
after  years  he  could  not  determine  the  length  of  time 
that  he  had  lived  in  her  wretched  home,  but  with  vivid 
brightness  dwelled  in  his  memory  the  morning  when  he 
ran  away  and  found  a  free  if  not  an  easy  life  in  the 
newsboys'  lodging-house.  He  sold  newspapers,  he 
went  to  a  night  school,  and  as  he  grew  older  he  picked 
up  "  river  items "  for  an  afternoon  newspaper.  His 
hope  was  that  he  might  become  a  "professional  jour- 
nalist," as  certain  young  men  termed  themselves;  and 
study,  which  in  an  ill-lighted  room,  tuned  to  drowsi- 
ness by  the  buzzing  of  youthful  mnmblers,  might  have 
been  a  chafing  task  to  one  who  felt  not  the  rowel  of  a 
spurring  ambition,  was  to  him  a  pleasure  full  of  thrill- 
ing promises.  To  him  the  reporter  stood  at  the  high- 
water  mark  of  ambition's  "freshet."  But  when  years 
had  passed  and  he  had  scrambled  to  that  place  he 
looked  down  and  saw  that  his  height  was  not  a  dizzy 
one.  And  instead  of  viewing  a  conquered  province,  he 
.  falling  from  above,  the  shadows  of  trials  yet  to  be 
endured.  He  worked  faithfully,  and  at  one  time  held 
the  place  of  city  editor,  but  a  change  in  the  manage- 
ment of  the  paper  not  only  reduced  him  to  the  ranks, 
but,  as  the  saying  went,  set  him  on  the  sidewalk. 
Then  he  wrote  "specials."  His  work  was  bright, 
original  and  strong,  and  was  reproduced  throughout 
the  country,  but  as  it  was  not  signed,  the  paper  alone 
received  the  credit.  Year  after  year  he  lived  in  this 
unsettled  way  —  reading  in  the  public  library,  musing 
at  his  own  fireside,  catching  glimpses  of  an  important 
work  which  the  future  seemed  to  hold,  and  waiting  for 


THE  COLOSSUS.  9 

the  outlines  of  that  work  to  become  more  distinct ;  but 
the  months  went  by  and  the  plan  of  the  work  remained 
in  the  shadow  of  the  coming  years. 

DeGolyer  had  now  reached  that  time  of  life  when  a 
wise  man  begins  strongly  to  suspect  that  the  past  is  but 
a  future  stripped  of  its  delusions.  He  was  a  man  of 
more  than  ordinary  appearance ;  indeed,  people  who 
knew  him,  and  who  believed  that  size  grants  the  same 
advantages  to  all  vocations,  wondered  why  he  was  not 
more  successful.  He  was  tall  and  strong,  and  in  his 
bearing  there  was  an  ease  which,  to  one  who  recognizes 
not  a  sleeping  nerve  force,  would  have  suggested  the 
idea  of  laziness.  His  complexion  was  rather  dark,  his 
eyes  were  black,  and  his  hair  was  a  dark  brown.  He 
was  not  handsome,  but  his  sad  face  was  impressive,  and 
his  smile,  a  mere  melancholy  recognition  that  some- 
thing had  been  said,  did  not  soon  fade  from  memory. 

One  afternoon  DeGolyer  called  at  the  office  of  a 
morning  newspaper,  and  was  told  that  the  managing 
editor  wanted  to  see  him.  When  he  was  shown  in  he 
found  an  aspiring  politician  laughing  with  forced 
heartiness  at  something  which  the  editor  had  said.  To 
the  Southern  politician  the  humor  of  an  influential 
editor  is  full  of  a  delicious  mellowness. 

When  the  politician  went  out  the  editor  invited 
PeGoh-er  to  take  a  seat.  "Mr.  DeGolyer,  a  number  of 
your  sketches  have  been  well  received." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  they  have  made  me  a  few  encouraging 
enemies." 

The  editor  smiled.  "And  you  regard  enemies  as  an 
encouragement,  eh  ?  " 

"  Yes,  as  a  proof  of  success.  Our  friends  mark  out 
a  course  for  us,  and  if  we  depart  from  it  and  do  some- 


10  THE  COLOSSUS. 

thing  better  than  their  specifications  call    for,  they 
become  our  enemies. " 

"I  don't  know  but  you  are  right."  After  a  short 
silence  the  editor  continued :  "  Mr.  DeGolyer,  we 
have  been  thinking  of  sending  a  man  down  into 
Costa  Rica.  Our  merchants  believe  that  if  we  were  to 
pay  more  attention  to  that  country  we  might  thereby 
improve  our  trade.  What  we  want  is  a  number  of  let- 
ters intended  to  familiarize  us  with  those  people  — want 
to  show,  yon  understand,  that  we  are  interested  in 
them." 

They  talked  during  an  hour.  The  next  day  DeGolyer 
\v;us  on  board  a  steamer  boi;nd  for  Pnnta  Arenas.  On  the 
vessel  he  met  a  young  man  who  said  that  his  name  was 
Henry  Sawyer ;  and  this  young  man  was  so  blithe  and 
light-hearted  that  DeGolyer,  yielding  to  the  persuasion 
of  contrast,  was  drawn  toward  him.  Young  Sawyer 
was  accompanied  by  his  uncle,  a  short,  fat,  and  at  times 
a  crusty  old  fellow.  DeGolyer  did  not  think  that  the 
uncle  was  wholly  sound  of  mind.  One  evening,  just 
before  reaching  port,  and  while  the  two  young  men 
were  standing  on  deck,  looking  landward,  young  Saw- 
yer said  : 

"  Do  you  know,  I  think  more  of  you  than  of  any  fel- 
low I  ever  met  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  it,"  DeGolyer  answered,  "but  I  am 
tempted  to  hope  so." 

"Good.  I  do,  and  that's  a  fact.  Yon  see,  I've  led  a 
most  peculiar  sort  of  life.  I  never  had  any  home  — 
that  is,  any  real  home.  I  don't  remember  a  thing  about 
my  father  and  mother.  They  died  when  I  was  very 
young,  and  then  my  uncle  took  me.  Uncle  never  mar- 
ried and  never  was  particularly  attached  to  any  one 


THE  COLOSSUS.  11 

place.  We  have  traveled  a  good  deal ;  have  lived  quite 
a  while  in  New  Orleans,  but  for  the  past  two  years  we 
have  lived  in  a  little  bit  of  a  place  called  Ulmata,  in 
central  Costa  Rica.  Uncle's  got  an  interest  in  some 
mines  not  far  from  there.  Say,  why  wouldn't  it  be  a 
good  idea  for  you  to  go  to  TJlmata  and  write  your  let- 
ters from  there  ?  Ain't  any  railroad,  but  there's  a  mule 
line  running  to  the  coast.  How  does  it  strike  you  ?" 

"  I'd  like  to,  but  I'm  afraid  that  it  would  take  my 
letters  too  long  to  reach  New  Orleans ;  still,  I  don't 
know  what  difference  that  would  make,  as  I'm  not  go- 
ing to  write  news.  After  all,"  he  added,  as  though  he 
were  arguing  with  himself,  "  I  should  think  that  the 
interior  is  more  interesting  than  the  coast,  for  people 
don't  hang  their  characteristics  over  the  coast  line." 

"There,  you've  hit  the  nail  the  very  first  lick.  You 
go  out  there  with  us,  and  I'll  bet  we  have  a  magnifi- 
cent time." 

"But  your  uncle  might  object." 

"  How  can  he  ?  It  ain't  any  of  his  business  where 
you  go." 

"Of  course  not." 

"  Well,  then,  that  settles  it.  But  really,  he'd  like  to 
have  you.  You'll  like  him ;  little  peculiar  at  times, 
but  you'll  find  him  all  right.  You'll  get  a  good  deal  of 
money  for  those  letters,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  No ;  a  hired  man  on  a  newspaper  doesn't  get  much 
money." 

"  But  it  must  take  a  good  deal  of  brains  to  do  your 
work." 

"  Presumably,  but  there  stands  a  long  row  of  brains 
ready  to  take  the  engagement  —  to  take  it,  in  fact,  at  a 
cut  rate.  The  market  is  full  of  brains." 


12  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"  How  old  did  yon  say  you  were  ?  " 

"I  am  nearly  thirty,"  DeGolyer  answered. 

"I'm  only  twenty-five,  but  that  don't  make  any  dif- 
ference ;  we'll  have  a  splendid  time  all  the  same.  You 
read  a  good  deal,  I  notice.  Uncle's  got  a  whole  raft  of 
books,  and  you  can  read  to  me  when  you  get  tired  of 
reading  to  yourself.  I've  gone  to  school  a  good  deal, 
but  I'm  not  much  of  a  hand  with  a  book  ;  but  I  tell  you 
what  I  believe  —  I  believe  I  could  run  a  business  to  the 
queen's  taste  if  I  had  a  chance,  and  I'm  going  to  try  it 
one  of  these  days.  Uncle  tells  me  that  after  awhile  I 
may  be  worth  some  money,  and  if  I  am  I'll  get  rich  as 
sure  as  you're  born.  Business  was  born  in  me,  but  I've 
never  had  a  chance  to  do  anything.  I  have  traded 
around  a  little,  and  I've  made  some  money,  too,  but  the 
trouble  is  that  I've  never  been  settled  down  long  enough 
to  do  much  of  anything.  I've  scarcely  any  chance 
at  all  out  at  Ulmata.  What  would  you  rather  be  than 
anything  else  ?  " 

"I  don't  know.  It  doesn't  seem  that  nature  has 
exerted  herself  in  fitting  me  for  anything,  and  I  am  a 
strong  believer  in  natural  fitness.  We  may  learn  to  do  a 
thing  in  an  average  sort  of  way,  but  excellence  requires 
instinct,  and  instinct,  of  course,  can't  be  learned. " 

"  I  guess  that's  so.  I  can  see  hundreds  of  ways  to 
make  money.  I'd  rather  be  a  big  merchant  than  any- 
thing else.  Old  fellow,"  he  suddenly  broke  off,  "I  am 
as  happy  as  can  be  to  have  yon  go  out  yonder  with  us  ; 
and  mark  what  I  tell  you — we're  going  to  have  a  splen- 
did time." 


CHAPTEK  II. 

A  SLEEPY  VILLAGE  AND  A  FUSSY  OLD  MAN. 

IN  the  village  of  Ulmata  there  was  just  enough  of  life 
to  picture  the  dreamy  indolence  of  man.  Best 
was  its  complexion,  and  freedom  from  all  marks  of  care 
its  most  pleasing  aspect. 

Old  Sawyer  was  so  demonstrably  gratified  to  have  a 
companion  for  his  nephew  that  he  invited  DeGolyer  to 
take  a  room  in  his  house,  and  DeGolyer  gratefully 
accepted  this  kindness.  Young  Sawyer  was  delighted 
Avhen  the  household  had  thus  been  arranged,  and  with 
many  small  confidences  and  unstudied  graces  of  boyish 
friendship,  he  kept  his  guest  in  the  refreshing  atmos- 
phere of  welcome.  And  in  the  main  the  uncle  was 
agreeable  and  courteous,  but  there  were  times  when  he 
flew  out  of  his  orbit  of  goodfellowship. 

Once  he  came  puffing  into  the  room  where  DeGolyer 
was  writing,  and  blusteringly  flounced  upon  a  sofa. 
He  remained  quiet  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  he 
blew  so  strong  a  spout  of  annoyance  that  DeGolyer 
turned  to  him  and  asked  : 

"  Has  anything  gone  wrong  ?  " 

The  old  fellow's  eyes  bulged  out  as  if  he  were  straining 
under  a  heavy  load.  "Yes,"  he  puffed,  "the  devil's 
gone  wrong." 

"  But  isn't  that  of  ancient  date  ?  "  DeGolyer  asked. 

"  Here,  now,  young  fellow,  don't  try  to  saw  me ! " 
13 


14  THE  COLOSSUS. 

And  then  he  broke  off  with  this  execration  :  "  Oh,  this 
miserable  world  —  this  infernal  pot  where  men  are 
boiled ! "  He  rolled  his  eyes  like  a  choking  ox,  and 
after  a  short  silence,  asked :  "  Young  fellow,  do  you 
know  what  I'd  do  if  ^  were  of  your  age  ?  " 

"  If  you  were  of  my  temperament  as  well  as  of  my  age 
I  don't  think  you'd  do  much  of  an}Tthing." 

"  Yes,  I  would ;  I  would  confer  a  degree  of  high 
favor  on  myself.  I  would  cut  my  throat,  sir." 

"Pardon  me,  but  is  it  too  late  at  your  time  of  life?" 

"  Yes,  for  my  nerve  is  diseased  and  I  am  a  coward, 
an  infamous,  doddering  old  coward,  sir.  Good  God  !  to 
live  for  years  in  darkness,  bumping  against  the  sharp 
corners  of  conscience.  I  have  never  told  Henry,  but  I 
don't  mind  telling  you  that  at  times  I  am  almost  mad. 
For  years  I  have  sought  to  read  myself  out  of  it,  but  to 
an  unsettled  mind  a  book  is  a  sly  poison  —  the  greatest 
of  books  are  but  the  records  of  trouble.  Don't  you  say 
a  word  to  Henry.  He  thinks  that  my  mind  is  as  sound 
as  a  new  acorn,  but  it  isn't." 

"  I  won't  —  but,  by  the  way,  he  is  young ;  why  don't 
you  advise  him  to  kill  himself  ?  " 

The  old  fellow  flounced  off  the  sofa  and  stood  bulg- 
ing his  eyes  at  DeGolyer. 

"Don't  you  ever  say  such  a  thing  as  that  again!"  he 
snorted.  "  Why,  confound  your  hide  !  would  you  have 
that  boy  dead?" 

DeGolyer  threw  down  his  pen.  "  No,  I  would  have 
him  live  forever  in  his  thoughtless  and  beautiful  para- 
dise ;  I  would  not  pull  him  down  to  the  thoughtful 
man's  hell  of  self-communion." 

"  Look  here,  young  man,  you  must  have  a  history. " 

"No,  simply  an  ill-written  essay." 


THE  COLOSSUS.  15 

"Who  was  your  father?  " 

"A  fool." 

"Ah,  I  grant  you.     And  who  was  your  mother?" 

"An  angel." 

"No,  sir,  she  —  I  beg  your  pardon,"  the  old  man 
quickly  added.  "You  are  sensitive,  sir." 

DeGolyer,  sadly  smiling,  replied:  "He  who  suffered 
in  childhood,  and  who  in  after  life  has  walked  hand  in 
hand  with  disappointment,  and  is  then  not  sensitive,  is 
a  brute." 

"  How  well  do  I  know  the  truth  of  that !  DeGolyer, 
I  have  been  acquainted  with  you  but  a  short  time,  but 
you  appeal  to  me  strongly,  sir.  And  I  could  almost 
tell  you  something,  but  it  is  something  that  I  ought  to 
keep  to  myself.  I  could  make  you  despise  me  and  then 
offer  me  your  regard  as  a  compromise.  Oh,  that 
American  republic  of  ours,  fought  for  by  men  who 
scorned  the  romance  of  kingly  courts,  is  not  so  com- 
monplace a  country  after  all.  Many  strange  things 
happen  there,  and  some  of  them  are  desperately  foul. 
Is  that  Henry  coming  ?  Hush." 

The  young  man  bounded  into  the  room.  "  Say,"  he 
cried,  "  I've  bargained  for  six  of  the  biggest  monkeys 
you  ever  saw.  That  old  fellow  " 

"Henry,"  the  uncle  interrupted,  taking  up  a  hat  and 
fanning  his  purplish  face,  "  you  are  getting  too  old  for 
that  sort  of  foolishness.  You  are  a  man,  you  must 
remember,  and  it  may  not  be  long  until  you'll  be  called 
upon  to  exercise  the  judgment  of  a  man." 

"  Oh,  I  was  going  to  buy  the  monkeys  and  sell  them 
again  for  three  times  as  much  as  I  gave  for  them,  but 
you  bet  that  when  I'm  called  on  to  exarcise  the  judg- 
ment of  a  man  I'll  be  there.  And  do  you  think  that 


16  THE  COLOSSUS. 

I'd  fool  with  mines  or  anything  else  in  this  country? 
I  wouldn't.  I'd  go  to  some  American  city  and  make 
money.  Say,  DeGolyer,  when  are  you  going  to  start 
off  on  that  jaunt  ?  " 

"  What  jaunt  ?  "  the  old  man  asked. 

"I  am  going  to  make  a  tour  of  the  country,"  De 
Golyer  answered.  "I'm  going  to  visit  nearly  every 
community  of  interest  and  gather  material  for  my 
letters,  and  shall  be  gone  a  month  or  so,  I  should 
think." 

"And  I'm  going  with  him,"  said  Henry. 

"No,"  the  old  man  replied,  "you  are  not  going  to 
leave  me  here  all  that  time  alone.  I'm  old,  and  I  want 
you  near  me." 

"All  right,  uncle;  whatever  you  say  goes." 

When  DeGolyer  mounted  a  mule  and  set  out  on  his 
journey,  young  Sawyer,  as  if  clinging  to  his  friendship, 
walked  beside  him  for  some  distance  into  the  country. 

"Well,  I'd  better  turn  back  here,"  said  the  young 
man,  halting.  "Say,  Hank,  don't  stay  away  any 
longer  than  you  can  help.  It's  devilish  lonesome  here, 
you  know." 

"I  won't,  my  boy." 

"  All  right.  And  say,  if  you  can't  do  the  thing  up  as 
well  as  you  want  to,  throw  up  the  job  and  come  back 
here,  for  I'll  turn  loose,  the  first  thing  you  know,  and 
make  enough  money  for  both  of  us." 

"  God  bless  you,  I  hope  that  you  may  always  make 
enough  for  yourself." 

"  And  you  bet  I  will,  and  for  you,  too.  I  hate  like 
the  mischief  to  see  you  go  away.  Couldn't  think  any 
more  of  you  if  we  were  twin  brothers.  And  you  think 
a  good  deal  of  me,  too,  don't  you.  Hank  ?  " 


THE  COLOSSUS.  17 

"My  boy,"  said  DeGolyer,  leaning  over  and  placing 
his  hand  on  the  young  fellow's  shoulder,  "  I  have  never 
speculated  with  my  friendship,  and  I  don't  know  how 
valuable  it  is,  but  all  of  it  that  is  worth  having  is  yours. 
You  make  friends  everywhere  ;  I  don't.  You  have 
nothing  to  conceal,  and  I  have  nothing  to  make  known. 
To  tell  you  the  truth,  you  are  the  only  real  friend  I 
ever  had." 

"  Look  out,  now.  That  sort  of  talk  knocks  me  ;  but 
say,  don't  be  away  any  longer  than  you  can  help." 

"  I  won't ! "  He  rode  a  short  distance,  turned  in  his 
saddle,  waved  his  hand  and  cried  :  "  God  bless  you,  my 
boy." 


CHAPTEE  in.  . 

ALL    WAS    DARKNESS. 

DELAYS  and  difficulties  of  traveling,  together  with 
his  own  determination  to  do  the  work  thoroughly, 
prolonged  DeGolyer's  absence.  Nearly  three  months 
had  passed.  Evening  was  come,  and  from  a  distant  hill- 
top the  returning  traveler  saw  the  steeple  of  Ulmata's 
church  —  a  black  mark  on  the  fading  blush  of  linger- 
ing twilight.  A  chilly  darkness  crept  out  of  the  valley. 
Hungry  dogs  barked  in  the  dreary  village.  DeGolyer 
could  see  but  a  single  light.  It  burned  in  the  priest's 
house  —  a  dark  age,  and  as  of  yore,  with  all  the  light 
held  by  the  church.  The  weary  man  liberated  his  mule 
on  a  common,  where  its  former  companions  were  grazing, 
and  sought  the  house  of  his  friends.  The  house  was 
dark  and  the  doors  were  fastened.  He  knocked,  and  a 
startling  echo,  an  audible  darkness,  came  from  the  val- 
ley. He  knocked  again,  and  a  voice  cried  from  the 
street : 

"Who's  that?" 

"  Helloa,  is  that  you,  my  boy  ?  " 

There  was  no  answer,  but  a  figure  rushed  through  the 
darkness,  seized  DeGolyer,  and  in  a  hoarse  whisper 
said  : 

"  Come  where  there's  a  light." 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter,  Henry  ?  " 

"Come  where  there's  a  light." 

18 


TEE  COLOSSUS.  19 

DeGolyer  followed  him  to  a  wretched  place  that  bore 
une  name  of  a  public-house,  and  went  with  him  into  a 
room.  A  lamp  sputtered  on  a  shelf.  Young  Sawyer 
caught  DeGolyer's  hands. 

"  I  have  waited  so  long  for  you  to  come  back  to  this 
dreadful  place.  I  am  all  alone.  Uncle  is  dead." 

DeGolyer  sat  down  without  saying  a  word.  He  sat 
in  silence,  and  then  he  asked  : 

"  When  did  he  die  ?  " 

"About  two  weeks  after  you  left." 

"Did  he  kill  himself?" 

"  Good  God,  no  !    Why  did  you  think  that  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  didn't  really  think  it  —  don't  know  why  I 
said  it." 

"  He  was  sick  only  a  few  days,  and  the  strangest  thing 
has  come  to  light !  He  seemed  to  know  before  he  was 
taken  sick  that  he  was  going  to  die,  and  he  spent  nearly 
a  whole  day  in  writing  —  writing  something  for  me  — 
and  the  strangest  thing  has  come  to  light.  I  can  hardly 
realize  it.  Here  it  is ;  read  it.  Don't  say  a  word  till 
you  have  read  every  line  of  it.  Strangest  thing  I  ever 
heard  of." 

And  this  is  what  DeGolyer  read  by  the  light  of  the 
sputtering  lamp  : 

"Years  ago  there  lived  in  Salem,  Mass.,  two  brothers, 
George  and  Andrew  Witherspoon.  Their  parents  had 
passed  away  when  the  boys  were  quite  young,  but  the 
youngsters  had  managed  to  get  a  fair  start  in  life. 
Without  ado  let  me  say  that  I  am  Andrew  Witherspoon. 
My  brother  and  I  were  of  different  temperaments.  He 
had  graces  of  mind,  but  was  essentially  a  business  man. 
I  prided  myself  that  I  was  born  to  be  a  thinker.  I  wor- 
shiped Emerson.  I  know  now  that  a  man  who  would 
willingly  become  a  thinker  is  a  fool.  When  I  was 


20  THE  COLOSSUS. 

twenty-three  —  and  George  nearly  twenty-one  —  I  fell 
in  love  with  Caroline  Springer.  There  was  just  enough 
of  poetry  in  my  nature  to  throw  me  into  a  devotion  that 
was  almost  wild  in  its  intensity,  and  after  my  first  meet- 
ing with  her  I  knew  no  peace.  The  chill  of  fear  and 
the  fever  of  confidence  came  alternating  day  by  day, 
and  months  passed  ere  I  had  the  strength  of  nerve  to 
declare  myself ;  but  at  last  the  opportunity  and  the 
courage  came  together.  I  was  accepted.  She  said  that 
if  I  had  great  love  her  love  might  be  measured  by  my 
own,  and  that  if  I  did  not  think  that  I  could  love  her 
always  she  would  go  away  and  end  her  days  in  grief. 
The  wedding  day  was  appointed.  But  when  I  went  to 
claim  my  bride  she  was  gone — gone  with  my  brother 
George.  To-day,  an  old  man,  I  look  back  upon  that 
time  and  see  myself  raving  on  the  very  brink  of  mad- 
ness. I  had  known  that  George  was  acquainted  with 
Caroline  Springer — indeed,  I  had  proudly  introduced 
him  to  her.  I  will  tell  my  story,  though,  and  not  dis- 
course. But  it  is  hard  for  an  old  man  to  be  straight- 
forward. If  he  has  read  much  he  is  discursive,  and  if 
he  has  not  read  he  is  tedious  with  many  words.  I  didn't 
leave  Salem  at  once.  I  met  George,  and  he  did  not  even 
attempt  to  apologize  for  the  wrong  he  had  done  me. 
He  repeated  the  fool  saying  that  all  is  fair  in  love. 
'  You  ought  to  be  glad  that  you  discovered  her  lack  of 
love  in  time/  he  said.  This  was  consolation,  surely. 
My  mind  may  "never  have  been  well-balanced,  and  I 
think  that  at  this  time  it  tilted  over  to  one  side,  never 
to  tilt  back.  And  now  my  love,  trampled  in  the 
mire,  arose  in  the  form  of  an  evil  determination. 
I  would  do  my  brother  and  his  wife  an  injury  that 
could  not  be  repaired.  I  did  not  wish  them  dead ; 
I  wanted  them  to  live  and  be  miserable.  A  year  passed, 
and  a  boy  was  born.  I  left  my  native  town  and  went 
west.  I  lived  there  nearly  three  years,  and  then  I  sent 
to  a  Kansas  newspaper  an  account  of  my  death.  It  was 
printed,  and  I  sent  my  brother  a  marked  copy  of  the 
paper.  Two  weeks  later  I  was  in  Salem.  I  wore  a 
beard,  kept  myself  close,  and  no  one  recognized  me. 


THE  COLOSSUS.  21 

I  waited  for  an  opportunity.  It  came,  and  I  stole  my 
brother's  boy.  I  went  to  Boston,  to  Europe,  back  to 
America  ;  lived  here  and  there,  and  you  know  the  rest. 
My  dear  boy,  I  repented  somewhat,  and  it  was  my  in- 
tention, at  some  time,  to  restore  you  to  your  parents, 
but  you  yourself  were  their  enemy  ;  you  crept  into  my 
heart  and  I  could  not  pluck  you  out.  For  a  time  the 
story  of  your  mysterious  disappearance  filled  the  news- 
papers. You  were  found  in  a  hundred  towns,  year 
after  year,  and  when  your  sensation  had  run  its  course, 
you  became  the  joke  of  the  paragraphers.  It  was  no 
longer,  '  Who  struck  Billy  Patterson  ? '  but  '  Who 
stole  Henry  Witherspoon  ? '  Once  I  saw  your  father  in 
New  Orleans.  He  had  come  to  identify  his  boy ;  but 
he  went  away  with  another  consignment  added  to  his 
large  stock  of  disappointment.  Finally  all  hope  was 
apparently  abandoned  and  even  the  newspapers  ceased 
to  find  you. 

"Your  father  and  mother  now  live  in  Chicago. 
George  Witherspoon  is  one  of  the  great  merchants  of 
that  city,  and  is  more  than  a  millionaire.  This  is  why 
I  have  so  often  told  you  that  one  day  you  would  be 
worth  money.  You  were  young  and  could  afford  to 
wait ;  I  was  old,  and  to  me  the  present  was  everything, 
and  you  were  the  present. 

"  For  some  time  I  have  been  threatened  with  sudden 
death  ;  I  have  felt  it  at  night  when  you  were  asleep  ; 
and  now  I  have  written  a  confession  which  for  years  I 
irresolutely  put  aside  from  day  to  day.  I  charge  you 
to  bury  me  as  Andrew  Witherspoon,  for  in  the  grave  I 
hope  to  be  myself,  with  nothing  to  hide.  Write  at 
once  to  your  father,  and  after  settling  up  my  affairs, 
which  I  urge  you  not  to  neglect,  you  can  go  to  him.  In 
the  commercial  world  a  high  place  awarts  you,  and 
though  I  have  done  you  a  great  wrong,  I  hope  that  your 
recollection  of  my  deep  love  for  you  may  soften  your 
resentment  and  attune  your  young  heart  to  the  sweet 
melody  <*t  forgiveness. 

"ANDREW  WITHERSPOON. " 


22          .  THE  COLOSSUS. 

DeGolyer  folded  the  paper,  returned  it  to  Henry  and 
sat  in  silence.  He  looked  at  the  smoking  lamp  and  lis- 
tened to  the  barking  of  the  hungry  dogs. 

"What  do  you  think,  Hank  ?" 

"I  don't  know  what  to  think." 

"  But  ain't  it  the  strangest  thing  you  ever  heard  of  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  is  strange,  and  yet  not  so  strange  to  me.  It 
is  simply  the  sequel  to  a  well-known  story.  In  the 
streets  of  New  Orleans,  years  ago,  when  I  could  scarcely 
carry  a  bundle  of  newspapers,  I  cried  your  name.  The 
story  was  getting  old  then,  for  I  remember  that  the 
people  paid  but  little  attention  to  it. " 

They  sat  for  a  time  in  silence.  Young  Witherspoon 
epoke,  but  DeGolyer  did  not  answer  him.  They  heard 
a  guitar  and  a  Spanish  love  song. 

"Yes,  it  is  strange,"  said  DeGolyer,  coming  back 
from  a  wandering  reverie.  "  It  is  strange  that  I  should 
be  here  with  you  ; "  and  under  a  quickening  of  his 
newspaper  instincts,  he  added,  "and  I  shall  have  the 
writing  of  it. " 

"  But  wait  awhile  before  yon  let  your  mind  run  off 
on  that,  Hank.  I  don't  want  to  be  described  and  talked 
about  so  much.  I  know  it  can't  be  kept  out  of  the 
papers,  but  we'll  discuss  that  after  a  while.  Now,  let 
me  tell  you  what  I've  done.  I  wrote  to  —  to  —  father  — 
don't  that  sound  strange  ?  I  wrote  to  him  and  sent 
him  a  copy  of  uncle's  paper  —  I  would  have  sent  the. 
original,  but  I  wanted  to  show  that  to  you.  I  also 
sent  a  note  that  mother — there  it  is  again  —  wrote  to 
uncle  a  long  time  ago,  and  a  lock  of  hair  and  some 
other  little  tricks.  I  told  him  to  write  to  me,  and 
here's  his  letter.  It  came  nearly  four  weeks  ago.  And 


THE  COLOSSUS.  23 

think,  Hank,  Pve  got  a  sister  —  grown  and  handsome, 
too,  I'll  bet." 

Ecstasy  had  almost  made  the  letter  incoherent.  It 
was  written  first  by  one  and  then  another  hand,  with 
frequent  interchanges ;  and  DeGolyer,  who  fancied  that 
he  could  pick  character  out  of  the  marks  of  a  pen, 
thought  that  a  mother's  heart  had  overflowed  and  that 
a  hard,  commercial  hand  had  cramped  itself  to  a  strange 
employment  —  the  expression  of  affection.  The  father 
deplored  the  fact  that  his  son  could  not  be  reached  by 
telegraph,  and  still  more  did  he  lament  his  inability, 
on  account  of  urgent  business  demands,  to  come  him- 
self instead  of  sending  a  letter.  "  Admit  of  no  delay, 
but  set  out  for  home  at  once,"  the  father  commanded. 
"  Telegraph  as  soon  as  yon  can,  and  your  mother  and  I 
will  meet  you  in  New  Orleans.  I  hope  that  this  may 
not  be  exploited  in  the  newspapers.  God  knows  that  in 
9iir  time  we  have  had  enough  of  newspaper  notoriety. 
Say  nothing  to  any  one,  but  come  at  once,  and  we  can 
give  for  publication  such  a  statement  as  we  think 
necessary.  Of  course  your  discovery,  as  a  sequel  to 
your  abduction  years  ago  and  the  tremendous  interest 
aroused  at  the  time,  will  be  of  national  importance, 
but  I  prefer  that  the  news  be  sent  out  from  this  place." 

Here  the  handwriting  was  changed,  and  "love," 
"thank  God,"  "darling  child,"  and  emotion  blots  filled 
out  the  remainder  of  the  page. 

"You  see,"  said  Witherspoon,  "that  I  have  a  reason 
for  depriving  you  of  an  early  whack  at  this  thing. 
Now,  I  have  written  again  and  told  them  not  to  be  im- 
patient, and  that  I  would  leave  here  as  soon  as  possible. 
T  have  settled  up  everything  here,  but  I've  got  to  go  to 


24  THE  COLOSSUS. 

a  little  place  away  over  on  the  coast  and  close  out  some 
mining  interests  there." 

"  It  must  be  of  but  trifling  importance,  my  boy,  and 
I  should  think  that  you'd  let  it  go." 

"  No,  sir  ;  I'm  going  to  do  my  duty  by  that  dear  old 
man  if  I  never  do  anything  else  while  I  live. " 

He  held  not  a  mote  of  resentment.  Indeed  was  his 
young  heart  "attuned  to  the  sweet  melody  of  forgive- 
ness." 

"By  the  way,  Hank,  here's  a  letter  for  you." 

The  communication  was  brief.  It  was  from  New 
Orleans  and  ran  thus  :  "  The  five  letters  which  we 
have  published  have  awakened  no  interest  whatever, 
and  I  am  therefore  instructed  to  discontinue  the  serv- 
ice. Inclosed  please  find  check  for  the  amount  due 
you." 

"What  is  it,  Hank?" 

"Oh,  nothing  except  what  I  might  have  expected. 
Read  it." 

Witherspoon  read  the  letter,  and  crumpling  it,  broke 
out  in  his  impuLsiv2  way  :  "That's  all  right,  old  fellow. 
It.  fits  right  into  my  plan,  and  now  let  me  tell  you  what 
that  is.  We'll  leave  here  to-morrow  and  go  over  to 
Dura  and  settle  up  there.  I  don't  know  how  long  it 
will  take,  and  I  won't  try  to  telegraph  until  we  get 
through.  Dura  isn't  known  as  a  harbor,  it  is  such  a 
miserably  small  place,  but  ships-  land  there  once  in 
awhile,  and  we  can  sail  from  there.  But  the  main  part 
of  my  plan  is  that  you  are  to  go  with  me  and  live  in 
Chicago  ;  and  I'll  bet  we  have  a  magnificent  time.  I'll 
go  in  the  store,  and  I'll  warrant  that  father — don't  that 
sound  strange  ?  —  that  father  can  get  you  a  good  place 
on  one  of  the  newspapers.  You  haven't  had  a  chance, 


THE  COLOSSUS.  25 

Hank,  and  when  you  do  get  one,  I'll  bet  yon  can  lay 
but  the  best  of  them.     What  do  you  say  ?  " 

«/  «/ 

"Henry,"  said  the  dark-visaged  DeGolyer  —  and  the 
light  of  affection  beamed  in  his  eyes —  "Henry,  you  are 
a  positive  charm ;  and  if  I  should  meet  a  girl  adorned 
with  a  disposition  like  yours,  I  would  unstring  my 
heart,  hand  it  to  her  and  say,  '  Here,  miss,  this  belongs 
to  you/" 

"  Oh,  you  may  find  one.  I've  got  a  sister,  you  know. 
What !  are  you  trying  to  look  embarrassed  ?  Do  you 
know  what  Fin  going  to  say  ?  I'm  going  to  lead  you 
up  to  my  sister  and  say,  '  Here,  I  have  caught  you  a 
prince  ;  take  him/  " 

"Nonsense,  my  boy." 

"  That's  all  right ;  but,  seriously,  will  you  go  with 
me?" 

"I  will." 

"  Good.  We'll  get  ready  to-night  and  start  early  in 
the  morning.  But  I  mustn't  forget  to  see  the  priest 
again. '  He  was  a  friend  when  I  needed  one ;  he  took 
charge  of  uncle's  burial.  But,"  he  suddenly  broke  off 
with  rising  spirits,  "  won't  we  have  a  time  ?  Million- 
aire, eh  ?  I'll  learn  that  business  and  make  it  worth 
ten  millions." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A   STRANGE   REQUEST. 

THE  next  morning,  before  it  was  well  light,  and  at  a 
time  when  brisk  youth  and  slow  age  were  seeking 
the  place  of  confession,  Henry  Witherspoon  went  to  the 
priest,  not  to  acknowledge  a  sin,  but  to  avow  a  deep 
gratitude.  The  journey  was  begun  early;  it  was  in 
July.  The  morning  was  braced  with  a  cool  breeze,  the 
day  was  cloudless,  and  night's  lingering  gleam  of 
silver  melted  in  the  gold  of  morn.  Young  Wither- 
spoon's  impressive  nature  was  up  with  joy  or  down  with 
sadness.  The  prospect  of  his  new  life  was  a  happiness, 
and  the  necessity  to  leave  his  old  v  uncle  in  a  foreign 
country  was  a  sore  regret;  so  happiness  and  regret 
strove  against  each  other,  but  happiness,  advantaged 
with  a  buoyant  heart  as  a  contest-ground,  soon  ended 
the  struggle. 

On  a  brown  hill-top  they  met  the  sunrise,  and  from  a 
drowsy  roosting- place  they  flushed  a  flock  of  greenish 
birds.  Witherspoon  stood  in  his  stirrups  and  waved 
his  hat.  "Good-by,"  he  cried,  "  but  you  needn't  have 
got  up  so  soon.  "\Ye  didn't  want  you.  Hank,"  he  said, 
turning  sideways  in  his  saddle,  "I  think  we  can  get 
there  in  about  five  days,  at  the  pace  we'll  be  compelled 
to  go  ;  and  we  can  sell  these  mules  or  give  them  away, 
just  as  we  like.  Going  home  !  I  can't  get  the  strange- 
ness of  it  out  of  my  head.  And  a  sister,  too,  mind  you. 


TEE  COLOSSUS.  27 

Fm  beginning  to  feel  like  a  man  now.  Yon  see,  nncle 
wanted  me  to  be  a  boy  as  long  as  I  could,  and  it  was 
only  of  late  that  he  began  to  tell  me  that  I  mnst  put 
aside  foolishness ;  but  I  am  beginning  to  feel  like  a  man 
now." 

"You  will  need  to  feel  like  one  when  you  take  up 
your  new  responsibilities.  You  are  playing  now,  but  it 
may  be  serious  enough  after  a  while." 

"  What !  Don't  preach,  Hank.  Responsibilities ! 
Why,  I'll  throw  them  over  my  shoulder  like  a  twine 
string.  But  let  me  tell  you  something.  There's  one 
thing  I'm  not  going  to  allow  —  they  shan't  say  a  word 
against  that  old  man.  Oh,  I  know  the  trouble  and 
grief  he  brought  about,  but  by  gracious,  he  had  a  cause. 
If  —  if  —  mother  didn't  love  him,  why  did  she  say  that 
if  he  didn't  love  her  she  would  go  away  somewhere  and 
grieve  herself  to  death  ?  That  was  no  way  to  treat  a 
fellow,  especially  a  fellow  that  loves  you  like  the 
mischief.  And  besides,  why  did  father  cut  him  out  ? 
Pretty  mean  thing  for  a  man  to  slip  around  and 
steal  his  brother's  sweetheart.  In  this  country  it  would 
mean  blood." 

''You  are  a  jewel,  my  boy." 

"  No,  I'm  simply  just.  Of  course,  two  wrongs  don't 
make  a  right,  as  the  saying  has  it,  but  a  wrong  with  a 
cause  is  half-way  right,  and  I'll  tell  them  at  the  very 
start  that  they  better  not  talk  about  the  matter.  In 
fact,  I  told  them  so  in  the  letter.  You've  had  a  pretty 
hard  time  of  it,  haven't  you,  Hank  ?  " 

"  I  shouldn't  want  an  enemy's  dog  to  have  a  harder 
one,"  DeGolyer  answered. 

"But  you've  got  a  good  education." 

"  So  has  the  hog  that  picks  up  cards  and  tells  the 


28  THE  COLOSSUS. 

time  of  day,"  said  DeGolyer,  "but  what  good  does  that 
do  him  ?  He  has  to  work  harder  than  other  hogs,  and 
is  kept  hungry  so  that  he  may  perform  with  more 
sprightliness.  But  if  I  have  a  good  education,  my  boy, 
I  stole  it,  and  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  at  any  time  to 
meet  an  officer  with  a  warrant  of  arrest  sworn  out 
against  me  by  society." 

"  Good ;  but  you  didn't  steal  trash  at  any  rate.  But, 
Hank,  you  look  for  the  dark  when  the  light  would  serve 
you  better.  Don't  do  it.  Throw  off  your  trouble." 

"Oh,  I'm  not  disposed  to  look  so  much  for  the  dark 
as  you  may  imagine.  Throw  it  off !  That's  good  advice. 
It  is  true  that  we  may  sometimes  throw  off  a  trouble, 
but  we  can't  very  well  throw  off  a  cause.  Some  natures 
are  like  a  piece  of  fly-paper  —  a  sorrow  alights  and  sticks 
there.  But  that  isn't  my  nature.  It  doesn't  take  much 
to  make  me  contented." 

The  weather  remained  pleasant,  and  the  travelers 
were  within  a  day's  ride  of  Dura,  when  Witherspoon 
complained  one  morning  of  feeling  ill,  and  by  noon  he 
could  scarcely  sit  in  his  saddle. 

"Let  us  stop  somewhere,"  DeGolyer  urged. 

"No,"  Witherspoon  answered,  "let  us  get  to  Dura  as 
soon  as  we  can.  I've  got  a  fever,  haven't  I  ?  " 

DeGolyer  leaned  over  and  placed  his  hand  on  Wither- 
spoon's  forehead.  "Yes,  you  have." 

"  The  truth  is,  I  haven't  felt  altogether  right  since 
the  first  day  after  we  started,  but  I  thought  it  would 
wear  off." 

When  they  reached  Dura,  Witherspoon  was  deliri- 
ous. Not  a  ship  was  in  port,  and  DeGolyer  took  him 
to  an  inn  and  summoned  such  medical  aid  as  the  hamlet 
alforded.  The  physician  naturally  gave  the  case  a 


THE  COLOSSUS.  29 

threatening  color,  and  it  followed  that  he  was  right, 
for  at  the  close  of  the  fourth  day  the  patient  gave  no 
promise  of  improvement.  The  innkeeper  said  that 
sometimes  a  month  passed  between  the  landing  of  ships 
at  that  point.  The  fifth  day  came.  DeGolyer  sat  by 
the  bedside  of  his  friend,  fanning  him.  The  doctor 
had  called  and  had  just  taken  his  leave. 

"Give  me  some  water,  Hank." 

"Ah,  you  are  coming  around  all  right,  my  boy,"  De- 
Golyer cried.  He  brought  the  water;  and  when  the 
patient  drank  and  shook  his  head  as  a  signal  to  take 
away  the  cup,  DeGolyer  asked:  "Don't  you  feel  a  good 
deal  better?" 

"No." 

"But  your  mind  is  clear?" 

"Yes." 

"Shall  I  put  another  cold  cloth  on  your  head?" 

"  If  you  please. " 

And  wiien  DeGolyer  had  gently  done  this,  Wither- 
spoon  said:  "Sit  down  here,  Hank." 

"All  right,  my  boy,  here  I  am." 

"Hank,  I'm  not  going  to  get  well." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  are,  and  don't  you  let  any  such  non- 
sense enter  your  head." 

"  It's  a  good  ways  from  nonsense,  I  tell  you.  I  know 
what  I'm  talking  about;  I  know  just  as  well  as  can  be 
that  I'm  going  to  die  —  now  you  wait  till  I  get  through. 
It  caa't  be  helped,  and  there's  no  use  in  taking  on  over 
it.  I  did  want  to  see  my  father  and  mother  and  sister, 
but  it  can't  be  helped." 

DeGolyer  was  on  his  knees  beside  the  bed.  He  at- 
tempted to  speak,  but  his  utterance  was  choked. ;  and 


30  TEE  COLOSSUS. 

the  tears  in  his  eyes  blurred  to  spectral  dimness  the  only 
human  being  whom  he  held  warm  in  his  heart. 

"  Hank,  while  I  am  able  to  talk  Fve  got  a  great  favor 
to  ask  of  you.  And  you'll  grant  it,  won't  you  ?  " 

"Yes,"  DeGolyer  sobbed. 

For  a  few  moments  the  sick  man  lay  in  silence.  He 
fumbled  about  and  found  DeGolyer's  hand.  "My 
father  and  mother  are  waiting  for  me,"  he  said.  "  They 
have  been  raised  into  a  new  life.  If  I  never  come  it 
will  be  worse  than  if  I  had  never  been  found,  for  they'll 
have  a  new  grief  to  bear,  and  it  may  be  heavier  than 
the  first.  They  must  have  a  son,  Hank. " 

"My  dear  boy,  what  do  you  mean?  " 

"  I  mean  that  if  I  die  —  and  I  know  that  I  am  going 
to  die  —  you  must  be  their  son.  You  must  go  there, 
not  as  Henry  DeGolyer,  but  as  Henry  TYitherspoon, 
their  own  son." 

"  Merciful  God  !    I  can't  do  that. " 

"But  if  you  care  for  me  you  will.  Take  all  my 
papers  —  take  everything  I've  got  —  and  go  home.  It  will 
be  the  greatest  favor  you  could  do  me  and  the  greatest 
you  could  do  them." 

"  But,  my  dear  boy,  I  should  be  a  liar  and  a  hypo- 
crite." 

"  No,  you  would  be  playing  my  part  because  I  couldn't 
play  it.  Once  you  said  that  you  would  give  me 
your  life  if  I  wanted  it,  and  now  I  want  it.  You  can 
make  them  happy,  and  they'll  be  so  proud  of  you. 
Won't  you  try  it  ?  I  would  do  anything  on  earth  for 
you,  and  now  you  deny  me  this  —  and  who  knows  but 
my  spirit  might  enter  into  you  and  form  a  part  of 
your  own?  How  can  you  refuse  me  when  you  know  that 


THE  COLOSSUS.  31 

I  think  more  of  you  than  I  do  of  anybody  ?    This  is  no 
boy's  prank  —  Fm  a  man  now.     Will  you  ?" 

"Henry,"  said  DeGolyer,  "this  is  merely  a  feverish 
notion  that  has  come  out  of  your  derangement.  Put,  it 
by,  and  after  a  while  we  will  laugh  at  it.  Is  the  cloth 
hot  again  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"I'll  change  it."  And  DeGolyer, removing  the  cloth 
and  placing  hi's  hand  on  his  friend's  forehead,  added: 
"Your  fever  isn't  so  high  as  it  was  yesterday.  You 
are  coming  out  all  right." 

"  No,  I  tell  you  that  I'm  going  to  die  ;  and  you  won't 
do  me  the  only  .favor  I  could  ask.  Don't  you  remem- 
ber saying,  not  long  ago,  that  a  man's  life  is  a  pretense 
almost  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  ?  " 

"  I  don't  remember  saying  it,  but  it  agrees  with  what 
I  have  often  been  compelled  to  think. " 

"  Well,  then,  if  you  think  that  life  is  a  pretense,  why 
not  pretend  by  request  ?" 

"We'll  talk  about  it  some  other  time,  my  boy." 
•  "  But  there  may  not  be  any  other  time." 

"  Oh,  yes,  there  will  be.  Don't  you  think  you  can 
sleep  now  ?  " 

"No,  I  don't  think  I  can  sleep  and  wake  up  again." 

But  he  did  sleep,  and  he  did  awake  again.  Three 
more  days  passed  wearily  away,  and  the  patient  was 
delirious  most  of  the  time.  DeGolyer's  acquaintance 
with  Spanish  was  but  small,  and  he  could  comprehend 
but  little  of  what  a  pedantic  doctor  might  say,  yet  he 
learned  that  there  was  not  much  encouragement  to  be 
drawn  from  the  fact  that  the  sick  man's  mind  some- 
times returned  from  its  troubled  wandering. 

DeGolyer  was  again  alone  wifti  his  friend.     It  w*s  a 


32  THE  COLOSSUS. 

hot  though  a  blustery  afternoon,  and  the  sea,  in  sight 
through  the  open  door,  sounded  the  deeper  notes  of  its 
endless  opera. 

"Hank." 

"I'm  here,  my  boy." 

"Have  you  thought  about  what  I  told  you  to  do  ? " 

"Are  you  still  clinging  to  that  notion  ?" 

"No  ;  it  is  clinging  to  me.  Have  you  thought  about 
it?" 

"Yes." 

"And.  what  did  you  think  ?" 

"  I  thought  that  for  you  I  would  take  the  risk  of  play- 
ing a  part  that  you  are  unable  to  perform.  But  really, 
Henry,  I'm  too  old." 

"  You  have  promised,  and  my  mind  is  at  ease,"  the 
sick  man  said,  with  a  smile.  "  Now  I  feel  that  I  have 
given  my  life  over  to  you  and  that  I  shall  not  really  be 
dead  so  long  as  you  are  alive.  Among  my  things  you 
will  find  some  letters  written  by  my  mother  to  my  uncle, 
and  a  small  gold  chain  and  a  locket  that  I  wore  when  I 
was  sto when  uncle  took  me.  That's  all." 

"I  will  do  the  best  I  can,  but  I'm  too  old." 

"  You  are  only  a  few  years  older  than  I  am.  They'll 
never  know.  They'll  be  blind.  You'll  have  the  proof. 
Go  at  once.  You  are  Henry  Witherspoon.  That's 
all." 

The  blustery  afternoon  settled  into  a  calm  as  the  sun 
went  down,  and  a  change  came  with  the  night.  The 
sufferer's  mind  flitted  back  for  a  moment,  and  in  that 
speck  of  time  he  spoke  not,  but  he  gave  his  friend  a 
look  of  gratitude.  All  was  over.  During  the  night 
DeGolyer  eat  alone  by  the  bedside.  And  a  ship  came  at 
morning. 


THE  COLOSSUS.  33 

A  kind-hearted  priest  offered  his  services.  "The 
ship  has  merely  dodged  in  here,"  said  he,  "and  won't 
stay  long,  and  it  may  be  a  month  before  another  one 
comes."  And  then  he  added.:  "You  may  leave  these 
melancholy  rites  to  me." 

A  man  stepped  into  the  doorway  and  cried  in  Spanish: 
"The  ship  is  ready." 

DeGolyer  turned  to  the  priest,  and  placing  a  purse 
on  the  table,  said:  "I  thank  you."  Then  he  stepped 
lightly  to  the  bedside  and  gazed  with  reverence  and 
affection  upon  the  face  of  the  dead  bo}r.  He  spoke  the 
name  of  Christ,  and  the  priest  heard  him  say :  "  Take 
his  spirit  to  Thy  love  raid  Thy  mercy,  for  no  soul  more 
forgiving  has  ever  entered  Thy  Father's  kingdom."  He 
took  up  his  traveling-bag  and  turned  toward  the  door. 
"One  moment,"  said  the  priest,  and  pointing  to  the 
couch,  he  asked  :  "  What  name  ?  " 

"  Henry — Henry  DeGolyer. " 


CHAPTER  V. 

DISSECTING  A  MOTIVE. 

ONWARD  went  the  ship,  nodding  to  the  beck  and  call 
of  mighty  ocean.  DeGolyer  —  or,  rather,  Henry 
Witherspoon,  as  now  he  knew  himself  —  walked  up  and 
dewn  the  deck.  And  it  seemed  that  at  every  turn  his 
searching  grief  had  found  a  new  abiding-place  for  sor- 
row. His  first  strong  attachment  was  broken,  and  he 
felt  that  in  the  years  to  come,  no  matter  what  fortune 
they  might  bring  him,  there  could  not  grow  a  friend- 
ship large  enough  to  fill  the  place  made  vacant  by  his 
present  loss.  An  absorbing  love  might  come,  but  love 
is  by  turns  a  sweet  and  anxious  selfishness,  while 
friendship  is  a  broad-spread  generosity.  Suddenly  he 
was  struck  by  the  serious  meaning  of  his  obligation, 
and  with  stern  vivisection  he  laid  bare  the  very  nerves 
of  his  motive.  At  first  he  could  find  nothing  save  the 
discharge  of  a  sacred  duty  ;  but  what  if  this  trust  had 
entailed  a  life  of  toil  and  sacrifice  ?  Would  he  have 
accepted  it  ?  In  his  agreement  to  this  odd  compact 
was  there  not  an  atom  of  self-interest  ?  Over  and  over 
again  he  asked  himself  these  questions,  and  he  strove 
to  answer  them  to  the  honor  of  his  incentive,  but  he 
felt  that  in  this  strife  there  lay  a  prejudice,  a  hope 
that  self  might  be  cleared  of  all  dishonor.  But  was 
there  ever  a  man  who,  in  the  very  finest  detail,  lived  a 
life  of  perfect  truth  and  freedom  from  all  selfishness  ? 

34 


THE  COLOSSUS.  35 

If  so,  "why  should  Providence  have  put  him  in  a  grasp- 
ing world  ?  Give  conscience  time  and  it  will  find  an 
easy  bed,  and  yet  the  softest  bed  may  have  grown  hard 
ere  morning  comes. 

"  Who  am  I  that  I  should  carp  with  myself  ? "  the 
traveler  mused.  "  Have  the  world  and  its  litter  of  pups 
done  anything  for  me  ?  "  He  walked  up  and  down  the 
deck.  "  God  knows  that  I  shall  always  love  the  memory 
of  that  dear  boy.  But  if  all  things  are  foreseen  and  are 
still  for  the  best,  why  should  he  have  died  ?  Was  it  to 
throw  upon  me  this  great  opportunity  ?  But  who  am 
I  ?  And  why  should  a  special  opportunity  be  wrought 
for  me  ?  But  who  is  anybody  ?  " 

Going  whither  ?  Home.  A  father — and  he  thought 
of  a  drunken  painter.  A  mother  —  and  his  mind  flew 
back  to  a  midnight  when  arms  that  had  carried  him 
warm  with  life  were  cold  in  death.  A  millionaire's 
eon  —  that  thought  startled  him.  What  were  the 
peculiar  duties  of  a  millionaire's  son  ?  No  maiter. 
They  might  impose  a  strain,  but  they  could  never  be  so 
trying  as  constant  poverty.  But  who  had  afflicted  him 
with  poverty  ?  First  his  birth  and  then  his  tempera- 
ment. But  who  gave  him  the  temperament  ?  He 
wheeled  about  and  walked  away  as  if  he  would  be  rid 
of  an  impertinent  questioner. 

When  the  ship  reached  New  Orleans  he  went  straight- 
way to  the  telegraph  office  and  sent  this  message  to 
George  Witherspoon  :  "Will  leave  for  Chicago  to-day." 
*  And  now  his  step  was  beyond  recall ;  he  must  go  for- 
ward. But  conscience  had  no  needles,  and  his  mind 
was  at  rest.  In  expectancy  there  \vas  a  keen  fascina^ 
tion.  He  met  a  reporter  whom  he  knew,  but 
there  was  no  sign  of  recognition.  A  beard,  thick, 


36  THE  COLOSSUS. 

black  and  neatly  trimmed,  gave  Henry^s  face  an  \>  - 
familiar  mold.  But  he  felt  a  momentary  fear ,  he 
realized  that  a  possible  danger  thenceforth  would  lie  in 
wait  for  him,  and  then  came  the  easing  assurance  that 
his  early  life,  his  father  and  his  mother,  were  remem- 
bered by  no  one  of  importance,  and  that  even  if  he  were 
recognized  as  Henry  DeGolyer,  he  could  still  declare 
himself  the  stolen  son  of  George  Witherspoon.  Indeed, 
with  safety  he  cculd  thus  announce  himself  to  the  man- 
aging editor  who  had  sent  him  to  Costa  Eica,  and  he 
thought  of  doing  this,  but  no,  his — his  father  wanted 
the  secret  kept  until  the  time  was  ripe  for  its  divulg- 
ence.  He  went  into  a  restaurant,  and  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life  he  felt  himself  free  to  order  regardless  of  the 
prices  on  the  bill  of  fare.  Often,  when  a  hungry  boy, 
he  had  sold  newspapers  in  that  house,  and  enviously  he 
had  watched  the  man  who  seemed  to  care  not  for  ex- 
penses. As  he  eat  there  waiting  for  his  meal,  a  news- 
boy came  in,  and  after  selling  him  a  paper,  stood  near 
the  table. 

"Sit  down,  little  fellow,  and  have  something  to  eat." 

This  was  sarcasm,  and  the  boy  leered  at  him. 

"Sit  down,  won't  yon?" 

"What  are  yon  givin'  me  ? " 

"This,"  said  Henry,  and  he  handed  bin)  a  dollar. 


CHAPTEE  VI. 

WAITING    AT    THE    STATION. 

MEX  bustling  their  way  to  the  lunch  counter;  okl 
women  fidgeting  in  the  fear  that  they  had  forgotten 
something;  man  in  blue  crying  the  destination  of  out- 
going trains;  weary  mothers  striving  to  soothe  their 
fretful  children ;  the  tumult  raised  by  cabmen  that  were 
crowding  against  the  border-line  of  privilege;  bells, 
shrieks,  new  harshnesses  here  and  there;  confusion 
everywhere — a  railway  station  in  Chicago. 

"The  train  ought  to  be  here  now/''  said  George  "\Yith- 
erspoon,  looking  at  his  watch. 

"Do  you  know  exactly  what  train  he  is  coming  on?", 
his  wife  asked. 

"Yes ;  he  telegraphed  again  from  Memphis." 

"You  didn't  tell  me  you'd  got  another  telegram." 

"My  dear,  I  thought  I  did.  The  truth  is  that  I've 
been  so  rushed  and  stirred  up  for  the  last  day  or  so  that 
I've  hardly  known  what  I  was  about." 

"And  I  can  scarcely  realize  now  what  I'm  waiting 
for,"  said  a  young  woman.  "Mother,  you  look  as  if  you 
haven't  slept  any  for  a  week." 

"And  I  don't  feel  as  if  I  have." 

George  Witherspoon,  holder  of  the  decisive  note  in  the 
affairs  of  that  great  department  store  known  as  "The  Co- 
lossus," may  not  by  design  have  carried  an  air  that  would 
indicate  the  man  to  whom  small  tradesman  regarded  it 

37 


38  THE  COLOSSUS. 

as  a  mark  of  good  breeding  to  cringe,  but  even  in  a  place 
where  his  name  was  not  known  his  appearance  would 
strongly  have  appealed  to  commercial  confidence.  That 
instinct  which  in  earlier  life  had  prompted  fearless  spec- 
ulation, now  crystalized  into  conscious  force,  gave  un- 
conscious authority  to  his  countenance.  He  was  tall 
and  with  so  apparent  a  strength  in  his  shoulders  as  to 
suggest  the  thought  that  with  them  he  had  shoved  his 
way  to  success.  He  was  erect  and  walked  with  a  firm 
step ;  he  wore  a  heavy  grayish  mustache  that  turned 
under  ;  his  chin  had  a  forceful  squareness ;  he  was  thin- 
haired,  nearing  baldness.  In  his  manner  was  a  sort  of 
firm  affability,  and  his  voice  was  of  that  tone  which 
success  nearly  always  assumes,  kindly,  but  with  a  sug- 
gestion of  impatience.  His  eyes  were  restless,  as  though 
accustomed  to  keep  watch  over  many  things.  When 
spoken  to  it  was  his  habit  to  turn  quickly,  and  if  occa- 
sion so  warranted,  to  listen  with  that  pleasing  though 
frosty  smile  which  to  the  initiated  means,  "  I  shall  be 
terribly  bored  by  any  request  that  you  may  make,  and 
shall  therefore  be  compelled  to  refuse  it."  He  was 
sometimes  liberal,  though  rarely  generous.  If  he 
showed  that  a  large  disaster  touched  his  heart,  he  could 
not  conceal  the  fact  that  a  lesser  mishap  simply  fell 
upon  his  irritated  nerves ;  and  therefore  he  might  con- 
tribute to  a  stricken  city  while  refusing  to  listen  to  the 
distress  of  a  family. 

Mrs.  Witherspoon  waa  a  dark-eyed  little  woman.  In 
her  earlier  life  she  must  have  been  handsome,  for  in  the 
expression  of  her  face  there  was  a  reminiscence  of 
beauty.  Her  dimples  had  turned  traitor  to  youth  and 
gossiped  of  coming  age.  Women  are  the  first  to  show 
the  contempt  with  which  wealth  regards  poverty,  the 


THE  COLOSSUS.  39 

first  to  turn  with  resentment  npon  former  friends  who 
have  been  left  in  the  race  for  riches,  the  first  to  feel  the 
overbearing  spirit  that  money  stirs ;  but'  this  woman 
had  not  lost  her  gentleness. 

The  girl  was  about  nineteen  years  of  age.  She  was 
a  picture  of  style,  delsarted  to  ease  of  motion.  She 
was  good-looking  and  had  the  whims  and  the  facial 
tricks  that  are  put  to  rhyme  and  raved  over  in  a 
sweetheart,  but  which  are  afterward  deplored  in  a  wife. 

"I  feel  that  I  shan't  know  how  to  act." 

Witherspoon  looked  at  his  daughter  and  said, 
"Ellen." 

"  But,  papa,  I  just  know  I  shan't.  How  should  I 
know  ?  I  never  met  a  brother  before ;  never  even 
thought  of  such  a  thing." 

"  Don't  be  foolish.  We  are  not  the  only  people  that 
have  been  placed  in  such  a  position.  No  matter  how 
you  may  be  situated,  remember  that  you  are  not  a 
pioneer  ;  no  human  strain  is  new." 

"  But  it's  the  only  time  /  was  ever  placed  in  such  a 
position." 

"Nonsense.  In  this  life  we  must  learn  to  expect 
anything."  Mrs.  Witherspoon  was  silently  weeping. 
"  Caroline,  don't,  please.  Remember  that  we  are  not 
alone.  A  trial  of  joy,  my  dear,  is  the  easiest  trial  to 
bear." 

"Not  always,"  she  replied. 

A  counter  commotion  in  the  general  tumult- — the 
train. 

A  crowd  waited  outside  the  iron  gate.  A  tall  young 
man  came  through  with  the  hastening  throng.  He 
cought  Witherspoon's  wandering  eye.  Strangers  look- 
ing: for  each  other  are  guided  by  a  peculiar  instinct, 


40  THE  COLOSSUS. 

but  "Witherspoon  stood  questioning  that  instinct.  The 
mother  could  see  nothing  with  distinctness.  The 
young  man  held  up  a  gold  chain. 

It  was  soon  over.  People  who  were  hastening  toward 
a  train  turned  to  look  upon  a  flurry  of  emotion  —  a 
mother  faint  with  joy;  a  strong  man  stammering  words 
of  welcome;  a  girl  seemingly  thrilled  with  a  new  pre- 
rogative ;  a  stranger  in  a  nest  of  affection. 

"Come,  let  us  get  into  the  carriage/'  said  AVither* 
spoon.  "  Come,  Caroline,  you  have  behaved  nobly,  and 
don't  spoil  it  all  now." 

She  gave  her  husband  a  quick  though  a  meek  glance 
and  took  Henry's  arm.  When  the  others  had  seated 
themselves  in  the  carriage,  Witherspoon  stood  for  a 
moment  on  the  curb-stone. 

"Drive  to  the  Colossus,"  he  commanded.  Mrs. 
Witherspoon  put  out  her  hand  with  a  pleading  gesture. 
"  You  are  not  going  there  before  you  go  home,  are  you, 
dear  ?  "  she  asked. 

f'l  am  compelled  to  go  there,  but  I'll  stay  only  a 
moment  or  two,"  he  answered.  "I'll  simply  hop  out 
for  a  minute  and  leave  the  rest  of  yon  in  the  carriage. 
There's  something  on  hand  that  needs  my  atten- 
tion at  once.  Drive  to  the  Colossus,"  he  said  as  he 
stepped  into  the  carriage.  A  moment  later  he  re- 
marked :  "  Henry,  you  are  different  from  what  I 
expected.  I  thought  you  were  light." 

"He  is  just  like  my  mother's  people,"  Mrs.  Wither- 
spoon spoke  up.  "All  the  Craigs  were  dark." 

They  drove  on  in  a  silence  not  wholly  free  from  em- 
barrassment. Through  the  carriage  windows  Henry 
caught  glimpses  of  a  world  of  hurry.  The  streets,  dark 
and  dangerous  with  traffic,  stretched  far  awaj  and 


THE  COLOSSUS.  41 

ended  in  a  cloud  of  smoke.  "It  will  take  time  to 
realize  all  this,"  the  young  men  mused,  and  meeting 
the  upturned  eyes  of  Mrs.  Witherspoon,  who  had 
clasped  her  hands  over  his  shoulder,  he  said  : 

"Mother,  I  hope  you  are  not  disappointed  in  me." 

"You  are  just  like  the  Craigs,"  she  insisted.  "They 
were  dark.  And  Uncle  Louis  was  so  dark  that  he 
might  have  been  taken  for  an  Italian,  and  Uncle 
Harvey" She  hesitated  and  glanced  at  her  hus- 
band. 

"What  were  you  going  to  say  about  your  Uncle 
Harvey  ?  "  Henry  asked. 

"Nothing,  only  he  was  dark  just  like  all  the  Craigs." 

There  is  a  grunt  which  man  borrowed  from  the  goat, 
or  which,  indeed,  the  goat  may  have  borrowed  from  man. 
And  this  grunt,  more  than  could  possibly  be  conveyed  by 
syllabic  utterance,  expresses  impatience.  Witherspoon 
gave  this  goat-like  grunt,  and  Henry  knew  that  he  had 
heard  of  the  Craigs  until  he  was  sick  of  their  dark 
complexion.  He  knew,  also,  that  the  great  merchant 
had  not  a  defensive  sense  of  humor,  for  humor,  in  the 
exercise  of  its  kindly  though  effective  functions,  would 
long  ago  have  put  these  Craigs  to  an  unoffending  death. 

"I  don't  see  why  you  turn  aside  to  talk  of  com- 
plexion when  the  whole  situation  is  so  odd,"  said 
Ellen,  speaking  to  her  father.  "  I  am  not  able  to  bring 
myself  down  to  a  realization  of  it  yet,  although  I  have 
been  trying  to  ever  since  we  got  that  letter  from  that 
good-for-nothing  country,  away  off  yonder.  You  must 
know  that  it  strikes  me  differently  from  what  it  does 
any  one  else.  It  is  all  romance  with  me — pure 
romance." 

"Witherspoon  said  nothing,  but  his  wife  replied  :    "It 


'12 

isn't  romance  with  me ;  it  ig  an  answer  to  a  prayer  that 
aiy  heart  has  been  beating  year  after  year." 

"But  don't  cry,  mother,"  said  Ellen.  "Your  prayer 
has  been  answered." 

"  Yes,  I  know  that,  but  look  at  the  long,  long  years 
of  separation,  and  now  he  comes  back  to  me  a  stranger." 

"But  we  shall  soon  be  well  acquainted,"  Henry 
replied,  "  and  after  a  while  you  may  forget  the  long  years 
of  separation." 

"  I  hope  so,  my  son,  or  at  least  I  hope  to  be  able  to 
remember  them  without  sorrow.  But  didn't  you,  at 
times,  fancy  that  you  remembered  me  ?  Couldn't  you 
recall  my  voice  ?  "  Her  lips  trembled. 

"No,"  he  answered,  slowly  shaking  his  head.  This 
was  the  cause  for  more  tears.  She  had  passed  com- 
pletely out  of  his  life.  Ah,  the  tender,  the  hallowed 
egotism  of  a  mother's  love  ! 

The  carriage  drew  up  to  the  sidewalk,  and  the  driver 
threw  open  the  door.  "I'll  be  back  in  just  a  minute," 
said  Witherspoon,  as  he  got  out ;  and  when  he  was  gone 
his  wife  began  to  apologize  for  him.  "  He's  always  so 
busy.  I  used  to  think  that  the  time  might  come  when 
he  could  have  more  leisure,  but  it  hasn't." 

"  What  an  immense  place  ! "  said  Henry,  looking 
out. 

"One  of  the  very  largest  in  the  world,"  Ellen  replied. 
"And  the  loveliest  silks  and  laces  you  ever  saw."  A 
few  moments  later  she  said  :  "  Here  comes  father." 

"Drive  out  Michigan,"  Witherspoon  commanded. 
They  were  whirled  away  and  had  not  gone  far  whet 
the  merchant,  directing  Henry's  attention,  said  : 

"The  Auditorium." 

"The  what?" 


THb  COLOSSUS.  48 

"The  Auditorium.  Is  it  possible  you  never  heard 
of  it?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  remember  now.  It  was  formally  opened, 
by  the  President." 

He  did  remember  it ;  he  remembered  having  edited 
telegraph  for  a  newspaper  on  the  night  when  Patti's 
voice  was  first  heard  in  this  great  home  of  music. 

"Biggest  theater  in  the  world,"  said  Witherspoon. 

'*  Bigger  than  La  Scala  of  Milan  ?  "  Henry  asked. 

"  Beats  anything  in  the  world,  and  I  remember  when 
the  ground  could  have  been  bought  for  —  see  that  lot 
over  there  ?  "  he  broke  off,  pointing.  "  I  bought  that 
once  for  eighty  dollars  a  foot  and  sold  it  for  a  hundred." 

"  Pretty  good  sale,  wasn't  it  ? "  Henry  innocently 
asked. 

"  Good  sale  !    What  do  you  suppose  it's  worth  now  ! " 

"I  have  no  idea." 

"  Three  thousand  a  foot  if  it's  worth  a  penny.  There 
never  was  anything  like  it  since  the  world  began.  I'm 
not  what  you  might  call  an  old-timer,  but  I've  seen 
some  wonderful  changes  here.  Now,  this  land  right 
here — fifteen  hundred  a  foot ;  could  have  bought  it 
not  so  very  long  ago  for  fifty.  I  tell  you  the  world 
never  saw  anything  like  it.  Why,  just  think  of  it ; 
there  are  men  now  living  who  could  have  bought  the 
best  corner  in  this  city  for  a  mere  song.  There's  no 
other  town  like  this.  Look  at  the  buildings.  When  a 
man  has  lived  here  a  while  he  can't  live  in  any  other 
town — any  other  town  is  too  slow  for  him  —  and  yet  I 
heard  an  old  man  say  that  he  could  have  got  all  the 
land  he  wanted  here  for  a  yoke  of  oxen." 

"But  he  hadn't  the  oxen,  eh  ?" 

"Of  course  he  had,"  Witherspoon  replied,  "but  who 


44  THE  COLOSSUS. 

wanted  to  exchange  useful  oxen  for  a  useless  mnd-hole  r 
Beats  anything  in  this  world." 

Henry  looked  at  him  in  astonishment.  His  tongue, 
which  at  first  had  seemed  to  be  so  tight  with  silence, 
was  now  so  loose  with  talk.  He  had  dropped  no  hint 
of  his  own  importance  ;  he  had  made  not  the  slightest 
allusion  to  the  energy  and  ability  that  had  been 
required  to  build  his  mammoth  institution.  His  impress- 
ive dignity  was  set  aside :  he  was  blowing  his  town's 
horn. 

The  carriage  turned  into  Prairie  Avenue.  "  Look  at 
all  this,"  Witherspoon  continued,  waving  his  hand. 
"I  remember  when  it  didn't  deserve  the  name  of  a 
street.  Look  at  that  row  of  houses.  Built  by  a  man 
that  used  to  drive  a  team.  There's  a  beauty  going  up. 
Did  you  ever  see  anything  like  it  ?  " 

"I  can  well  say  that  I  never  have,"  Henry  answered. 

"I  should  think  not,"  said  Witherspoon,  and  point- 
ing to  the  magnificent  home  of  some  obscure  man,  he 
added:  " I  remember  when  an  old  shed  stood  there. 
Just  look  at  that  carving  in  front." 

""Who  lives  there?"  Henry  asked. 

"Did  hear,  but  have  forgotten.  Yonder's  one  of 
green  stone.  I  don't  like  that  so  well.  Here  we  have 
a  sort  of  old  stone.  That  house  looks  as  though  it 
might  be  a  hundred  years  old,  but  it  was  put  up  last 
year.  "Well,  here's  our  house." 

The  carriage  drew  up  under  the" porte-cocher  of  a 
mansion  built  of  cobble-stones.  It  was  as  strong  as  a 
battlement,  but  its  outlines  curved  in  obedience  to 
gracefulness  and  yielded  to  the  demand  of  striking 
effect.  Viewed  from  one  point  it  might  have  been 
taken  for  a  castle  ;  from  another,  it  suggested  itself  as 


THE  COLOSSUS.  45 

a  spireless  church.  Strangers  halted  to  gaze  at  it; 
street  laborers  looked  at  it  in  admiration.  It  was  showy 
in  a  neighborhood  of  mansions. 

Mrs.  Witherspoon  led  Henry  to  the  threshold  and 
tremulously  kissed  him.  Amd  it  was  with  this  degree 
of  welcome  that  the  wanderer  was  shown  into  his  home. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A  MOTHER'S  AFFECTION. 

IN  ONE  bedazzled  moment  we  review  a  whole 
night  of  darkness.  A  luxury  brings  with  it  the 
memory  of  a  privation.  The  first  glimpse  of  those 
drawing-rooms,  gleaming  with  white  and  warm  with 
gold,  were  seen  against  a  black  cloud,  and  that  cloud 
,vas  the  past.  The  wanderer  was  startled ;  there  was 
aothing  now  to  turn  aside  the  full  shock  of  his  respon- 
sibilities. He  felt  the  enormity  of  his  pretense,  and  he 
began  again  to  pick  at  his  motive.  Mrs.  Witherspoon 
perceived  a  change  in  him  and  anxiously  asked  if  he 
were  ill.  No,  but  now  that  his  long  journey  was  ended 
he  felt  worn  by  it.  The  father  saw  him  with  a  fresh 
criticism  and  said  that  he  looked  older  than  his  years 
bespoke  him  ;  but  the  mother,  quick  in  every  defense, 
insisted  that  he  had  gone  through  enough  to  make  any 
one  look  old  ;  and  besides,  the  Craigs,  being  a  thought- 
ful people,  always  looked  older  than  they  really  were. 
In  the  years  that  followed,  this  first  day  "  at  home  "  was 
reviewed  in  all  its  memories — the  library  with  its 
busts  of  old  thinkers  and  its  bright  array  of  new  books ; 
the  sober  breakfast-room  in  which  luncheon  was  served  ; 
the  orderly  servants ;  the  plants ;  the  gold  fishes ;  the 
heavy  hangings ;  a  tiger  skin  with  a  life-expressive 
head  ;  the  portraits  of  American  statesmen  ;  the  rich 
painting  of  a  cow  that  flashed  back  the  tradition  of  a 
trade-mark  bull  on  a  dead  wall. 


THE  COLOSSUS.  47 

Evening  came  with  melody  in  the  music-room  ;  mid- 
night, and  Henry  sat  alone  in  his  room.  He  was  heavy 
with  sadness.  The  feeling  that  henceforth  his  success 
must  depend  upon  the  skill  of  his  hypocrisy,  and  that 
he  must  at  last  die  a  liar,  lay  upon  him  with  cold 
oppression.  Kindness  was  a  reproach  and  love  was  a 
censure.  Some  one  tapped  at  the  door. 

"Come  in." 

Mrs.  Witherspoon  entered.  "  I  just  wanted  to  see  if 
you  were  comfortable,"  she  said,  seating  herself  in  a 
rocking-chair. 

"So  much  so  that  I  am  tempted  to  rebel  against  it," 
he  answered. 

She  smiled  sadly.  "  There  are  so  many  things  that  I 
wanted  to  say  to  you,  dear,  but  I  haven't  had  a  chance, 
somehow." 

Her  eyes  were  tear-stricken  and  her  voice  trembled. 
"  It  isn't  possible  that  you  could  know  what  a  mother's 
love  is,  my  son." 

"I  didn't  know,  but  you  have  taught  me." 

"No,  not  yet ;  but  I  will  —  if  you'll  let  me." 

"  If  I'll  let  you  ?  "    He  looked  at  her  in  surprise. 

"Yes,  if  you  will  bear  with  me.  Sit  here,"  she  said, 
tapping  the  broad  arm  of  the  chair.  He  obeyed,  and 
she  took  his  arms  and  put  them  about  her  neck. 
"There  hasn't  been  much  love  in  my  life,  precious. 
Perhaps  I  am  not  showy  enough,  not  strong  enough  for 
the  place  I  occupy." 

"  But  you  are  good  enough  to  hold  the  place  of  an 
angel." 

She  attempted  to  speak,  but  failed.  Something  fell 
on  her  hand,  and  she  looked  up.  The  man  was  weep- 
ing. They  sat  there  in  silence. 


48  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"In  your  early  life,"  she  said,  pressing  his  arms  closer 
about  her  neck,  "  my  love  sought  to  protect  you,  but 
now  it  must  turn  to  you  for  support.  Your  uncle  — 
but  you  told  me  not  to  speak  of  him."  She  paused 
a  moment,  and  then  continued  :  "  Your  uncle  did  me  a 
deep  wrong,  but  I  had  wronged  him.  Oh,  I  don't  know 
why  I  did.  And  he  had  kept  my  letters  all  these  years." 
Another  silence.  She  was  the  first  to  speak.  "  Ellen 
loves  me,  but  a  daughter's  love  is  more  of  a  help  than  a 
support." 

"And  father?" 

"Oh,  he  is  good  and  kind,"  she  quickly  answered, 
"  but  somehow  I  haven't  kept  up  with  him.  He  is  so 
strong,  and  I  fear  that  my  nature  is  too  simple ;  I  haven't 
force  enough  to  help  him  when  he's  worried.  He  hasn't 
said  so,  but  I  know  it !  And  of  course  you  don't  under- 
stand me  yet ;  but  won't  you  bear  with  me  ?  " 

In  her  voice  there  was  a  sad  pleading  for  love,  and  this 
man,  though  playing  a  part,  dropped  the  promptings  of 
his  r61e,  and  with  the  memory  of  his  own  mother  strong 
within  him,  pressed  this  frail  woman  to  his  bosom  and 
with  tender  reverence  kissed  her. 

"Oh,"  she  sobbed,  "I  thank  God  for  bringing  you 
back  to  me.  Goodnight." 

He  closed  the  door  when  she  was  gone,  and  stood  as 
though  he  knew  not  whither  to  turn.  He  looked  at  the 
onyx  clock  ticking  on  the  mantelpiece.  He  listened  to 
the  rumble  of  a  carriage  in  the  street.  He  put  out  his 
hands,  and  going  slowly  into  his  sleeping-room,  sank 
upon  his  knees  at  the  bedside. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  DOMAIN  OF  A  GREAT  MERCHANT. 

TO  ONE  who  has  gazed  for  many  hours  upon  whirl- 
ing scenes,  and  who  at  his  journey's  end  has  gone 
fco  sleep  in  an  unfamiliar  place,  the  question  of  self- 
identity  presents  itself  at  morning  and  of  the  dozing 
faculties  demands  an  answer.  Henry  lay  in  bed,  catch- 
ing at  flitting  consciousness,  but  missing  it.  He  tried 
to  recall  his  own  name,  but  could  not.  One  moment 
he  felt  that  he  was  on  board  a  ship,  rising  and  sinking 
with  the  mood  of  the  sea ;  then  he  was  on  a  railway 
train,  catching  sight  of  a  fence  that  streaked  its  way 
across  a  field.  He  saw  a  boy  struggling  with  a  horse 
that  was  frightened  at  the  train ;  he  saw  a  girl  wave 
her  beflowered  hat  —  a  rushing  woods,  a  whirling  open 
space,  a  sleepy  station.  Once  he  fancied  that  he  was  a 
child  lying  in  bed,  not  at  midnight,  but  at  happy,  bird- 
chattered  morning,  when  the  sun  was  bright ;  but  then 
he  heard  a  roar  and  he  saw  a  street  stretch  out  into  a 
darkening  distance,  and  he  knew  that  he  was  in  a  great 
city.  Consciousness  loitered  within  reach,  and  he 
seized  it.  He  was  called  to  breakfast. 

How  bright  the  morning.  Through  the  high  and 
church-like  windows  softened  sunbeams  fell  upon  the 
stairway.  He  heard  Ellen  singing  in  the  music-room ; 
he  met  the  rich  fragrance  of  coffee.  Mrs.  Witherspoon, 
with  a  smile  of  quiet  happiness,  stood  at  the  foot  of  the 

4  49 


50  THE  COLOSSUS. 

stairs.  Ellen  came  out  with  a  lithe  skip  and  threw  a 
kiss  at  him.  "Witherspoon  sat  in  the  breakfast-room 
reading  a  morning  newspaper. 

"  "Well,  my  son,  how  do  you  find  yourself  this  morn- 
ing ? "  the  merchant  asked,  throwing  aside  the  news- 
paper and  stretching  himself  back  in  his  chair. 

"  First-rate ;  but  I  had  quite  a  time  placing  myself 
before  I  was  fully  awake." 

"  I  guess  that's  true  of  nearly  everybody  who  comes 
to  Chicago.  It  makes  no  difference  how  wide-awake  a 
man  thinks  he  is,  he  will  find  when  he  comes  to  this 
city  that  he  has  been  nodding." 

Breakfast  was  announced.  Ellen  took  Henry's  hand 
and  said  :  "  Come,  this  is  your  place  here  by  me. 
Mother  told  me  to  sit  near  you  ;  she  wants  me  to  check 
any  threatened  outbreak  of  your  foreign  peculiarities." 

"  Ellen,  what  do  you  mean  ?  I  didn't  say  anything 
of  the  sort,  Henry.  It  could  make  no  difference  where 
xny  mother's  people  were  brought  up.  The  Craigs  always 
knew  how  to  conduct  themselves." 

"Oh,  yes,"  Witherspoon  spoke  up,  "the  Craigs  were 
undoubtedly  all  right,  but  we  are  dealing  with  live 
issues  now.  Henry,  we'll  go  down  to  the  store  this 
morning  " 

"  So  soon  ?  "  his  wife  interrupted. 

"  So  soon  ?  "  the  merchant  repeated.  "  What  do  you 
mean  by  so  soon  ?  Won't  it  be  time  to  go  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  I  suppose  so." 

"  And  where  do  I  come  in  ?  "  asked  the  girl. 

"You  can  go  if  you  insist,"  said  Witherspoon,  "but 
there  are  matters  that  he  and  I  must  arrange  at  once. 
We've  got  to  fix  up  some  sort  of  statement  for  the 
newspapers  ;  can't  keep  this  thing  a  secret,  you  know, 


THE  COLOSSUS.  51 

and  a  tailor  must  be  consulted.  Your  clothes  are  all 
right,  my  son,"  he  quickly  added,  "but — well,  you 
understand." 

Henry  understood,  but  he  had  thought  when  he  left 
New  Orleans  that  he  was  well  dressed.  And  now  for  a 
moment  he  felt  ragged. 

"When  shall  we  have  the  reception?  "  Ellen  asked. 

"The  reception,"  Henry  repeated,  looking  up  in 
alarm. 

"Why,  listen  to  him,"  the  girl  cried.  "Don't  you 
know  that  we  must  give  a  reception?  Why,  we  couldn't 
get  along  without  it;  society  would  cut  us  dead.  Think 
how  nice  it  will  be  —  invitations  with  'To  meet  Mr. 
Henry  Witherspoon '  on  them." 

"  Must  I  go  through  that  ?  "  Henry  asked,  appealing 
to  Mrs.  Witherspoon. 

"Of  course  you  must,  but  not  until  the  proper 
time." 

"Why,  it  will  be  just  splendid,"  the  girl  declared. 
"  You  ought  to  have  seen  me  the  night  society  smiled 
and  said,  '  Well,  we  will  now  permit  you  to  be  one  of 
us/  Oh,  the  idea  of  not  showing  you  off,  now  that 
we've  caught  you,  is  ridiculous.  You  needn't  appeal  to 
mother.  You  couldn't  keep  her  from  parading  you  up 
and  down  in  the  presence  of  her  friends." 

He  was  looking  at  Mrs.  Witherspoon.  She  smiled 
with  more  of  humor  than  he  had  seen  her  face  express, 
and  thus  delivered  her  opinion:  "If  we  had  no  recep- 
tion, people  would  think  that  we  were  ashamed  of  our 
sou." 

"All  right,  mother  ;  if  you  want  your  friends  to  meet 
the  wild  man  of  Borneo  who  has  just  come  to  town,  I 
have  nothing  more  to  sav.  Your  word  shall  be  a  law 


52  THE  COLOSSUS. 

with  me  ;  but  I  must  tell  you  that  whenever  you  make 
arrangements  into  which  I  enter,  you  must  remember 
that  society  and  I  have  had  scarcely  a  hat-tipping 
acquaintance.  I  may  know  many  things  that  society 
never  even  dreamed  of,  but  some  of  society's  simplest 
phases  are  dangerous  mysteries  to  me." 

"Nonsense,"  said  Witherspoon.  " Society  may  rule  a 
poor  man,  but  a  rich  man  rules  society.  Common  sense 
always  commands  respect,  for  nearly  every  rule  that 
governs  the  conduct  of  man  is  founded  upon  it.  Don't 
you  worry  about  the  reception  or  anything  else.  You 
are  a  man  of  the  world,  and  to  such  a  man  society  is  a 
mere  plaything." 

"  Well,"  replied  Ellen,  wrinkling  her  handsome  brow 
with  a  frown,  "  I  must  say  that  you  preach  an  odd  sort 
of  sermon.  Society  is  supposed  to  hold  the  culture  and 
the  breeding  of  a  community,  sir." 

"Yes,  supposed  to,"  Witherspoon  agreed. 

"Oh,  well,  if  you  question  it  I  won't  argue  with  you." 
And  giving  Henry  a  meaning  look,  she  continued  : 
"Of  course  business  is  first.  Art  drops  on  its  worn 
knees  and  prays  to  business,  and  literature  begs  it  for  a 
mere  nod.  Everything  is  the  servant  of  business." 

"Everything  in  Chicago  is,"  the  merchant  replied. 

"Art  is  the  old  age  of  trade/'  said  Henry.  "A  vig- 
orous nation  buys  and  sells  and  fights ;  but  a  nation  that 
is  threatened  with  decay  paints  and  begs." 

"  Good  ! "  Witherspoon  exclaimed.  "  I  think  you've 
hit  it  squarely.  Since  we  went  to  Europe,  Ellen  has  had 
an  idea  that  trade  is  rather  low  in  the  scale  of  human 
interest." 

"  Now,  father,  I  haven't  any  such  idea,  and  you  know 
it,  too.  Bat  I  do  think  that  people  who  spend  their 


THE  COLOSSUS.  53 

lives  in  getting  money  can't  be  as  refined  as  those  who 
have  a  higher  aim." 

AVitherspoon  grunted.  "  What  do  you  call  a  higher 
aim  ?  Hanging  about  a  picture  gallery  and  simpering 
over  a  lot  of  long-haired  fellows  in  outlandish  dress,  ha  ? 
Is  it  refinement  to  worship  a  picture  simply  because  you 
are  not  able  to  buy  it  ?  Some  people  rave  over  art,  and 
we  buy  it  and  hang  it  up  at  home." 

She  laughed,  and  slipping  off  her  chair,  ran  round 
to  her  father  and  put  her  arms  about  his  neck.  "I  can 
always  stir  you  up,  can't  I  ?  " 

"You  can  when  you  talk  that  way,"  he  answered. 

"  But  you  know  I  don't  mean  that  you  aren't  refined. 
Who  could  be  more  gentle  than  you  are  ?  But  you 
must  let  me  enjoy  an  occasional  mischief.  My  mother's 
people,  the  Craigs,  were  all  full  of  mischief,  and" 

"  Ellen,"  said  her  mother. 

Witherspoon  laughed,  and  reaching  back,  pretended 
to  pull  the  girl's  ears.  "  Am  I  going  down  town  with 
you  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,  not  this  morning.  I'm  going  to  drive  Henry 
down  in  the  light  buggy.  My  boy,  I've  got  as  fine  a 
span  of  bay  horses  as  you  ever  saw.  Cost  me  five  thou- 
sand apiece.  That's  art  for  you;  eh,  Ellen?" 

"  They  are  beautiful,"  she  admitted. 

"  Yes,  and  strung  up  with  pride.  Get  ready,  Henry, 
and  we'll  go." 

When  Witherspoon  gathered  up  the  lines  and  with 
the  whip  touched  one  of  the  horses,  both  jumped  ar 
though  startled  by  the  same  impulse. 

" There's  grace  for  you,"  said  Witherspoon.     "Loo" 
how  they  plant  their  fore  feet." 

Henry  did  not  answer.     He  was  looking  back  at  a 


54  THE  COLOSSUS. 

palace,  his  home;  and  he,  too,  was  touched  with  a  whip 
—  the  thrilling  whip  of  pride.  It  lasted  but  a  moment. 
His  memory  threw  up  a  home  for  the  friendless,  and 
upon  a  background  of  hunger,  squalor  and  wretched- 
ness his  fancy  flashed  the  picture  of  an  Italian  hag, 
crooning  and  -toothless. 

"We'll  turn  into  Michigan  here,"  said  the  merchant. 
"  Isn't  this  a  great  thoroughfare  ?  Yonder  is  where  we 
lived  before  we  built  our  new  house.  Just  think  what 
this  will  be  when  these  elms  are  old."  They  sped  along 
the  smooth  drive.  "  Ho,  boys !  Business  is  creeping 
out  this  way,  and  that  is  the  reason  I  got  over  on  Prairie. 
See,  that  man  has  turned  his  residence  into  a  sort  of 
store.  A  little  farther  along  you  will  see  fashionable 
humbuggery  of  all  sorts.  These  are  women  fakes  along 
here.  Ho,  boys,  ho  !  There's  where  old  man  Coltou 
lives.  We'll  meet  him  at  the  store.  In  the  Colossus 
Company  he  is  next  to  me.  Smart  old  fellow,  but  he 
worked  many  years  in  the  hammer-and-tongs  way,  and 
he  probably  never  would  have  done  much  if  he  hadn't 
been  shoved.  Ho,  boys,  ho!  People  ought  to  be 
arrested  for  piling  brick  in  the  street  this  way.  Colton 
was  always  afraid  of  venturing;  shuddered  at  the 
thought  of  risking  his  money ;  wanted  it  where  he 
could  lay  his  hands  on  it  at  any  time.  Brooks,  his  son- 
in-law,  is  a  sort  of  general  manager  over  our  entire 
establishment,  and  he  is  one  of  the  most  active  and  use- 
ful men  I  ever  saw  —  bright,  quick,  characteristically 
American.  I  think  you'll  like  him.  That  place  over 
there  "  —  cutting  his  whip  toward  an  old  frame  house 
scalloped  and  corniced  in  fantastic  flimsiness  —  "was 
sold  the  other  day  at  about  thirty  per  cent  more  than 
it  would  have  brought  a  few  years  ago." 


THE  COLOSSUS.  55 

They  turned  into  another  street  and  were  taken  up, 
it  seemed,  by  the  swift  trade  currents  that  swirl  at 
morning,  rush  through  the  noon,  glide  past  the  evening 
and  rest  for  a  time  in  the  semi-calm  of  midnight.  Chi- 
cago has  begun  to  set  the  pace  of  a  nervous  nation's 
progress.  It  is  a  city  whose  growth  has  proved  a  fatal 
example  to  many  an  overweaning  town.  Materialistic, 
it  holds  no  theory  that  points  not  to  great  results; 
adventurous,  it  has  small  patience  with  methods  that 
slowness  alone  has  stamped  as  legitimate.  Worshiping 
a  deification  of  real  estate,  and  with  a  rude  aristocracy 
building  upon  the  blood  of  the  sow  and  the  tallow  of  the 
bull,  its  atmosphere  discourages  one  artist  while  invit- 
ing another  to  rake  up  the  showered  rewards  of  a  "  boom  " 
patronage.  Feeling  that  naught  but  sleepiness  and 
sloth  should  be  censured,  it  resents  even  a  kindly  criti- 
cism. Quick  to  recognize  the  feasibility  of  a  scheme  ; 
giving  money,  but  holding  time  as  a  sacred  inheritance. 
It  is  a  re-gathering  of  the  forces  that  peopled  America 
and  then  made  her  great  among  nations  ;  a  mighty  com- 
munity with  a  growing  literary  force  and  with  its  cul- 
ture and  its  real  love  for  the  beautiful  largely  con- 
fined to  the  poor  in  purse  ;  grand  in  a  thousand  respects ; 
with  its  history  glaring  upon  the  black  sky  of  night  ; 
with  the  finest  boulevards  in  America  and  the  filthi- 
est alleys  —  a  giant  in  need  of  a  bath. 

The  Colossus  stood  as  a  towering  island  with  "a  tide 
in  the  affairs  of  men  "  sweeping  past.  And  it  seemed 
to  Henry  that  the  buggy  was  cast  ashore  as  a  piece  of 
driftwood  that  touches  land  and  finds  a  lodgment.  At 
an  earlier  day,  and  not  so  long  ago  either,  the  flaw  of 
unconscious  irony  might  have  been  picked  in  the  name 
Colossus,  but  now  the  establishment,  covering  almost  a 


66  THE  COLOSSUS. 

block  and  rising  story  upon  story,  filled  in  the  outlines 
of  its  pretentious  christening. 

"Tap,  tap,  tap  —  cash,  46;  tap,  tap  —  cash,  63," 
>vas  the  leading  strain  in  this  din  of  extensive  barter 
and  petty  transaction.  The  Colossus  boasted  that  it 
could  meet  every  commercial  demand  ;  supply  a  sewing- 
ma«hine  needle  or  set  up  a  saw-mill;  receipt  for  gas  bills 
and  water  rates  or  fit  out  a  general  store.  Under  one 
roof  it  held  the  resources  of  a  city.  Henry  was  startled 
by  its  immensity,  and  as  he  followed  Witherspoon  through 
labyrinths  of  bright  gauzes  and  avenues  of  somber 
goods,  he  perceived  that  a  change  in  the  tone  of  the 
hum  announced  the  approach  of  the  master.  And  it 
appeared  that,  no  matter  what  a  girl  might  be  doing, 
she  began  hurriedly  to  do  something  else  the  moment 
she  spied  Witherspoon  coming  toward  her.  The  quick 
signs  of  flirtation,  signals  along  the  downward  track  of 
morality,  subsided  whenever  this  ruler  came  within 
sight ;  and  the  smirk  bargain-counter  miss  would 
actually  turn  from  the  grinning  idiocy  of  the  bullet- 
headed  fellow  who  had  come  in  to  admire  her  and  would 
deign  to  wait  on  a  poorly  dressed  woman  who  had 
failed  to  attract  her  attention. 

The  offices  of  the  management  were  on  the  first  floor, 
and  Henry  was  conducted  thither  and  shown  into 
Witherspoon's  private  appartment  —  into  the  calico, 
bombazine,  hardware  and  universal  nick-nack  holy  of 
holies.  The  room  was  not  fitted  up  for  show,  but  for 
business.  Its  furniture  consisted  mainly  of  a  roll-top 
desk,  a  stamp  with  its  handle  sticking  up  like  the  tail  of 
an  excited  cat,  a  dingy  carpet  and  several  chairs  of  a 
shape  so  nngenial  to  the  human  form  as  to  suggest  that 


TEE  COLOSSUS.  &l 

a  hint  at  xne  desirability  of  a  visitor's  early  withdrawal 
might  have  been  incorporated  in  their  construction. 

"I  will  see  if  Colton  has  come  down,"  Witherspoon 
remarked,  glancing  through  a  door  into  another  room. 
"Yes,  there  he  is.  He's  coming.  Mr.  Colton,"  said 
Witherspoon,  with  deep  impressiveness,  "  this  is  my  son 
Henry." 

The  old  man  bowed  with  a  politeness  in  which  there 
was  a  reminder  of  a  slower  and  therefore  a  more  cour- 
teous day,  and  taking  the  hand  which  Henry  cordially 
offered  him,  said :  "  To  meet  you  affects  me  pro- 
foundly, sir.  Of  course  I  am  acquainted  with  youi 
early  history,  and  this  adds  to  the  interest  I  feel  in  you> 
but  aside  from  this,  to  meet  a  son  of  George  Wither- 
spoon must  necessarily  give  me  great  pleasure." 

"Brother  Colton  is  from  Maryland,"  Witherspoon 
remarked,  and  a  sudden  shriveling  about  the  old  man's 
mouth  told  that  he  was  smiling  at  what  he  had  long 
since  learned  to  believe  was  a  capital  bit  of  playfulness. 
And  he  bowed,  grabbled  up  a  dingy  handkerchief  that 
dangled  from  him  somewhere,  wiped  off  his  shriveled 
smile,  and  then  declared  that  if  frankness  was  a  marl? 
of  the  Marylander,  he  should  always  be  glad  to  acknowl- 
edge his  native  State. 

,  Brooks,  Colton's  son-in-law,  now  came  in.  This  man, 
while  a  floor-walker  in  a  dry-goods  store,  had  attracted 
Witherspoon's  notice,  and  a  position  in  the  Colossus, 
at  that  time  an  experiment,  was  given  him.  He 
recognized  the  demands  of  his  calling,  and  he  strove 
to  fit  himself  to  them.  Several  years  later  he  married 
Miss  Colton,  and  now  he  was  in  a  position  of  such  con- 
fidence that  many  schemes  for  the  broadening  of  trade 
and  for  the  pleasing  of  the  public's  changeful  fancy 


58  THE  COLOSSUS. 

were  entrusted  to  his  management.  He  was  of  a  size 
which  appears  to  set  off  clothes  to  the  best  advan- 
tage. His  face  was  pale  and  thoughtful,  and  he 
had  the  shrewd  faculty  of  knowing  when  to  smile.  His 
eyes  were  of  such  a  bulge  as  to  give  him  a  spacious 
range  of  vision  without  having  to  turn  his  head,  and 
while  moving  about  in  the  discharge  of  his  duty,  he 
often  saw  sudden  situations  that  were  not  intended  for 
his  entertainment. 

Brooks  was  prepared  for  the  meeting,  and  con- 
ducted himself  with  a  dignity  that  would  have  cast  no 
discredit  upon  the  ablest  floor- walker  in  Christendom. 
He  had  known  that  he  could  not  fail  to  be  impressed 
by  one  so  closely  allied  by  blood  to  Mr.  George  Wither- 
spoon,  but  really  he  had  not  expected  to  meet  a  man  of 
so  distinguished  a  bearing,  a  traveler  and  a  scholar,  no 
doubt. 

"Traveler  enough  to  know  that  I  have  seen  but  little, 
and  scholar  enough  to  feel  my  ignorance,"  Henry 
replied. 

"Oh,  you  do  yourself  an  injustice,  I  am  sure,  but 
you  do  it  gracefully.  We  shall  meet  often,  of  course. 
Mr.  Witherspoon,"  he  added,  addressing  the  head  of  the 
Colossus,  "we  have  just  arrested  that  Mrs.  McXutt." 

"  How's  that  ?    What  Mrs.  McXutt  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  woman  who  was  suspected  of  shop-lifting. 
This  time  we  caught  her  in  the  act." 

"  Ah,  hah.     Have  you  sent  her  away  ?  " 

"Not  yet.  She  begs  for  an  interview  with  you  — 
says  she  can  explain  everything." 

"Don't  want  to  see  her  ;  let  her  explain  to  the  law." 

"That's  what  I  told  her,  sir." 


THE  COLOSSUS.  59 

Brooks  bowed  and  withdrew.  Old  man  Colton  was 
already  at  his  desk. 

"  Now,  my  son,"  said  Witherspoon,  aimlessly  fumbling 
with  some  papers  on  his  desk,  "  I  should  think  that  the 
first  thing  to  be  attended  to  is  that  statement  for  the 
newspapers.  Wait  a  moment,  and  we  will  consult 
Brooks.  He  knows  more  in  that  line  than  any  one  else 
about  the  place."  He  tapped  a  bell.  "Mr.  Brooks," 
he  said  when  a  boy  appeared.  Brooks  came,  and 
Witherspoon  explained. 

"Ah,  I  see,"  said  Brooks.  "  You  don't  want  to  give  it 
to  any  one  paper,  for  that  isn't  business.  We'll  draw 
off  a  statement  and  send  it  to  the  City  Press  Associa- 
tion, and  then  it  will  be  given  out  to  all  the  papers." 

"That  is  a  capital  idea  ;  you  will  help  us  get  it  up." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Brooks,  bowing. 

"That  will  not  be  necessary,"  Henry  protected, 
unable  to  disguise  his  disapproval  of  the  arrangement. 
"I  can  write  it  in  a  very  short  time." 

"Ah,"  Witherspoon  replied,  "bnt  Brooks  is  used  to 
such  work.  He  writes  our  advertisements." 

"But  this  isn't  an  advertisement,  and  I  prefer  to 
write  it." 

"Of  course,  if  you  can  do  it  satisfactorily,  but  I 
should  think  that  it  would  be  better  if  done  by  a 
practiced  hand." 

"I  think  so  too,"  Henry  rejoined,  "and  for  that 
reason  I  recommend  my  own  hand.  I  have  worked  on 
newspapers." 

"  That  so  ?  It  may  be  fortunate  so  far  as  this  one 
instance  is  concerned,  but  as  a  general  thing  I  shouldn't 
Tecommend  it.  Newspaper  men  have  such  loose  rneth- 


60  THE  COLOSSUS. 

ods,  as  a  rule,  that  they  never  accomplish  much  when 
they  turn  their  attention  to  business." 

Henry  laughed,  but  the  merchant  had  spoken  with 
such  seriousness  that  he  was  not  disposed  to  turn  it  off 
with  a  show  of  mirth.  His  face  remained  thoughtful, 
and  he  said  :  "  We  had  several  newspaper  men  about 
here,  and  not  one  of  them  amounted  to  anything. 
Brooks,  your  services  will  not  be  needed.  In  fact,  two 
of  them  were  dishonest,"  he  added,  when  Brooks  had 
quitted  the  room.  "  They  were  said  to  be  good  news- 
paper men,  too.  One  of  them  came  with  '  Journalist ' 
printed  on  his  card ;  had  solicited  advertisements  for 
nearly  every  paper  in  town.  They  were  all  understood 
to  be  good  solicitors." 

""What,"  said  Henry,  "were  they  simply  advertising 
solicitors  ?" 

"  Why,  yes  ;  and  they  were  said  to  be  good  ones. " 

"  But  you  must  know,  sir,  that  an  advertising  solicitor 
is  not  a  newspaper  man.  It  makes  me  sick  —  I  beg 
your  pardon.  But  it  does  rile  me  to  hear  that  one  of 
these  fellows  has  called  himself  a  newspaper  man.  Of 
course  there  are  honest  and  able  men  in  that  employ- 
ment, but  they  are  not  to  be  classed  with  men  whose 
learning,  judgment  and  strong  mental  forces  make  a 
great  newspaper." 

So  new  a  life  sprang  into  his  voice,  and  so  strong  a 
conviction  emphasized  his  manner,  that  Witherspoon, 
for  the  first  time,  looked  on  him  with  a  sort  of  admira- 
tion. 

"Well,  you  seem  to  be  loaded  on  this  subject." 

"  Yes,  but  not  offensively  so,  I  hope.  Now,  give  me 
the  points  you  want  covered." 

"All  right;  sit  here." 


THE  COLOSSUS.  61 

Henry  took  Witherspoon's  chair ;  the  merchant 
walked  up  and  down  the  room.  The  points  were 
agreed  upon,  and  the  writer  was  getting  well  along  with 
his  work  when  Witherspoon  suddenly  paused  in  his 
walk  and  said  to  some  one  outside:  "Show  him  in 
here." 

A  pale  and  restless-looking  young  man  \\dth  green 
neckwear  entered  the  room.  "Xow,  sir,"  the  merchant 
demanded  somewhat  sharply,  "  what  do  you  want  with 
me  ?  You  have  been  here  three  or  four  times,  I  under- 
stand. What  do  you  want  ?  " 

""We  are  not  alone,"  the  young  man  answered, 
glancing  at  Henry. 

"State  your  business  or  get  out." 

"  "Well,  it's  rather  a  delicate  matter,  sir,  and  I  didn't 
want  anything  to  do  with  it,  but  we  don't  always  have 
our  own  way,  you  know.  Er  —  the  editor  of  the 
paper  " 

"  What  paper  ?" 

"The  Weekly  Call.  The  editor  sent  me  with  in- 
structions to  ask  you  if  this  is  true  ?  " 

He  handed  a  proof -slip  to  the  merchant,  and  Henry 
saw  Witherspoon's  face  darken  as  he  read  it.  The  next 
moment  the  great  merchant  stormed:  "There  isn't  a 
word  of  truth  in  it.  It  is  an  infamous  lie  from  start  to 
finish." 

"I  told  him  I  didn't  think  it  was  true,"  said  the 
young  man,  "but  he  talked  as  if  he  believed  it; 
remarked  that  you  never  advertised  with  him  anyway." 

"  Advertise  with  him  !  Why,  I  didn't  know  until  this 
minute  that  such  a  paper  existed.  How  much  of  an 
advertisement  does  he  expect  ?  " 


62  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"  Held  on  a  moment ! "  Henry  cried.  "  Let  me  kick 
this  fellow  into  the  street." 

"Nothing  rash/'  said  Witherspoon,  putting  out  his 
hand.  "Sit  down,  Henry.  It  will  be  all  right.  It's 
something  you  don't  understand."  And  speaking  to 
the  visitor,  he  added  :  "Send  me  your  rates." 

"I  have  them  here,  sir,"  he  replied,  shying  out  of 
Henry's  reach.  He  handed  a  card  to  Witherspoon. 

"  Let  me  see,  now.  Will  half  a  column  for  a  year  be 
sufficient  ?  " 

"Well,  that's  rather  a  small  ad,  sir." 

Henry  got  up  again.  "  I  think  I'd  better  kick  him 
into  the  street." 

"  No,  no ;  sit  down  there.  Let  me  manage  this. 
Here."  The  blackmailer  had  retreated  to  the  door. 
"You  go  back  to  your  editor  and  tell  him  that  I  will 
put  in  a  column  for  one  year.  Wait.  Has  anybody 
seen  this  ?  "  he  added,  holding  up  the  proof-slip. 

"  Nobody,  sir,  and  I  will  have  the  type  distributed  as 
soon  as  I  get  back." 

"See  that  you  do.  Tell  Brooks;  he  will  send  you 
the  copy.  Now  get  out.  Infamous  scoundrel  I "  he 
said  when  the  fellow  was  gone.  "  But  don't  say  any- 
thing about  it  at  home,  for  it  really  amounts  to  noth- 
ing." 

He  tore  the  proof-slip  into  small  fragments  and 
threw  them  into  the  spittoon. 

"  What  is  it  all  about  ?  "  Henry  asked. 

"Oh,  it's  the  foulest  of  fabrication.  About  a  year 
ago  there  came  a  widow  from  Washington  with  a  letter 
from  one  of  our  friends,  and  asked  for  a  position  in  the 
store.  Well.  \ve  gave  her  employment,  and — and  it  is 
about  her  ;  but  it  really  amounts  to  nothing." 


THE  COLOSSUS.  63 

"Why,  then,  didn't  you  let  me  kick  the  scoundrel 
into  the  street  ?  " 

"My  dear  boy,  to  a  man  who  has  the  money  it  is 
easier  to  pay  than  to  explain.  The  public  is  greedy  for 
scandal,  but  looks  with  suspicion  and  coldness  upon  a 
correction.  One  is  sweet ;  the  other  is  tasteless.  The 
rapid  acquisition  of  wealth  is  associated  with  some 
mysterious  crime,  and  men  who  have  failed  in  wild 
speculations  are  the  first  to  cry  out  against  the  million- 
aire. The  rich  man  must  pay  for  the  privilege  of 
being  rich. 

The  statement  was  sent  to  the  city  press.  It  reminded 
the  public  of  the  abduction  of  Henry  Witherspoon  ; 
touched  upon  the  sensation  created  at  the  time,  and 
upon  the  long  season  of  interest  that  had  followed ; 
explained  the  part  which  the  uncle  had  played,  and 
delicately  gave  his  cause  for  playing  it.  And  the  return 
of  the  wanderer  was  set  forth  with  graphic  directness. 

At  noon  the  morchcnt  and  Henry  ate  luncheon  in  a 
club  where  thic!:  rugs  hushed  a  foot-fall  into  a 
mere  whisper  of  a  walk,  where  servants,  grave  of  coun- 
tenance and  low  of  voice,  seemed  to  underscore  the  chil- 
liness of  the  place.  Henry  was  introduced  to  a  number 
of  astonished  men,  who  said  that  they  welcomed  him 
home,  and  who  immediately  began  to  talk  about  some- 
thing else  ;  and  he  was  shown  through  the  large  library, 
where  a  solitary  man  sat  looking  at  the  pictures  in  a 
comic  weekly.  After  leaving  the  club  they  went  to  a 
tailor's  shop,  and  then  drove  over  the  boulevards  and 
through  the  parks.  Witherspoon,  with  no  pronounced 
degree  of  pride,  had  conducted  Henry  through  the 
Colossus ;  he  had  been  pleased,  of  course,  at  the  young 
man's  astonishment,  and  he  must  have  been  moved  by 


64  THE  COLOSSUS. 

a  strong  surge  of  self-glorification  when  his  son 
wondered  at  the  broadness  of  the  Witherspoon  empire, 
yet  he  had  held  in  a  strong  subjection  all  signs  of  an 
unseemly  pride.  But  when  he  struck  the  boulevard 
system,  his  dignified  reserve  went  to  pieces. 

"  Finest  on  earth ;  no  doubt  about  that.  Oh,  of 
course,  many  years  of  talk  and  thousands  of  pages  of 
print  have  paved  the  Paris  boulevards  with  peculiar 
interest,  but  wipe  out  association,  and  where  would  they 
be  in  comparison  with  these  ?  Look  at  that  stretch. 
And  a  few  years  ago  this  land  could  have  been  picked 
up  for  almost  nothing.  Look  at  those  flowers." 

It  was  now  past  midsummer,  but  no  suggestion  of  a 
coming  blight  lay  upon  the  flower-beds.  "Look  at 
those  trees.  Why,  in  time  they  will  knock  the  New 
H&ven  elms  completely  out." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  INTERVIEWERS. 

WHEN  they  reached  home  at  evening  they  found 
that  five  reporters  had  been  shown  into  the  li- 
brary and  were  waiting  for  them. 

"Glad  to  see  you,  gentlemen,"  said  Witherspoon, 
emiling  in  his  way  of  pleasant  dismissal,  "but  really 
that  statement  contains  all  that  it  is  necessary  for  the 
public  to  know.  We  don't  want  to  make  a  sensation  of 
it,  you  understand." 

"  Of  course  not,"  one  of  the  newspaper  men  replied. 

"And,"  said  the  merchant,  with  another  smile,  "I 
don't  know  what  else  can  be  said." 

But  the  smile  had  missed  its  aim.  The  attention  of 
the  visitors  was  settled  upon  Henry.  There  was  no 
bhance  for  separate  interviews,  and  questions  were  asked 
by  first  one  and  then  another. 

"  You  had  no  idea  that  your  parents  were  alive  ?  " 

"Not  until  after  my  uncle's  death." 

"  Had  he  ever  told  you  why  you  were  in  his  charge  ?  * 

"  Yes ;  he  said  that  at  the  death  of  my  parents  I  had 
been  given  to  him." 

"  You  of  course  knew  the  story  of  the  mysterious  dis- 
appearance of  Henry  Witherspoon." 

"Yes ;  when  a  boy  I  had  read  something  about  it." 

"  In  view  of  the  many  frauds  that  had  been  attempted, 

5  65 


66  THE  COLOSSUS. 

hadn't  you  a  fear  that  your  father  might  be  suspl, 
cious  of  yon?" 

"  No ;  I  had  forwarded  letters  and  held  proof  that 
could  not  be  disputed.  The  mystery  was  cleared  up." 

"  How  old  are  you  ?  " 

"  I  shall  be  twenty-five  next next " 

"December  the  fourteenth,"  Witherspoon  answered 
for  him. 

"The  truth  .is,"  said  Henry,  "uncle  did  not  remem- 
ber the  exact  date  of  my  birth." 

"  "Was  your  uncle  a  man  of  means  ?  " 

"Well,  I  can  hardly  say  that  he  was.  He  speculated 
considerably,  and  though  he  was  never  largely  success- 
ful, yet  he  always  managed  to  live  well." 

"  Were  you  engaged  in  any  sort  of  employment?  " 

"Yes,  at  different  times  I  was  a  reporter." 

"  It  is  not  necessary  that  the  public  should  know  all 
this,"  said  Witherspoon. 

"  But  we  can't  help  it,"  Henry  replied.  "  The  state- 
ment we  sent  out  would  simply  serve  to  hone  and  strap 
public  curiosity  to  a  keen  edge.  I  expected  something 
of  this  sort.  The  only  thing  to  do  is  to  get  through 
with  it  as  soon  as  we  can." 

When  the  interview  was  ended  Henry  went  to  the 
front  door  with  the  reporters,  and  at-  parting  said  to 
them  :  "  I  hope  to  see  you  again,  gentlemen,  and  doubt- 
iess  I  shall.  I  am  one  of  you." 

At  dinner  that  evening  Witherspoon  was  in  high 
spirits.  He  joked — a  recreation  rare  with  him  —  and 
he  told  a  story  —  a  mental  excursion  of  marked  uncom- 
monness. 

"  What,  Henry,  don't  you  drink  wiue  at  all  ? "  the 
merchant  asked. 


THE  COLOSSUS.  67 

"No,  sir,  I  stand  in  mortal  fear  of  it."  The  vision 
of  a  drunken  painter,  lie  always  fancied,  hung  like  a 
fog  between  him  and  the  liquor  glass. 

•"It's  well  enough,  my  son." 

"Xone  of  the  Craigs  were  drunkards,"  said  Ellen, 
giggling. 

"Ellen,"  Mrs.  Witherspoon  solemnly  enjoined,  "my 
mother's  people  shall  not  be  made  sport  of.  It  is  true 
that  there  were  no  drunkards  among  them.  And 
why  ?  " 

"  Because  none  of  them  got  drunk,  I  should  think," 
Henry  ventured  to  suggest. 

"  That,  of  course,  was  one  reason,  my  son,  but  the  . 
main  reason  was  that  they  knew-^  how  to  govern  them- 
selves." 

The  evening  flew  away  with  music  and  with  talk  of 
a  long  ago  made  doubly  dear  by  present  happiness. 
The  hour  was  growing  late.  Witherspoon  and  Henry 
sat  in  the  library,  smoking.  Ellen  had  gone  to  her 
room  to  draft  a  form  for  the  invitation  to  Henry's 
reception,  and  Mrs.  "Witherspoon  was  on  a  midnight 
prowl  throughout  the  house,  and  although  knowing 
that  everything  was  right,  yet  surprised  to  find  it  so. 

"Now,  my  boy,"  said  the  merchant,  "we  will  talk 
business.  Your  mother,  and  particularly  your  sister, 
thought  it  well  for  me  to  make  you  an  allowance,  and 
while  I  don't  object  to  the  putting  of  money  aside  for 
yon,  yet  I  should  rather  have  you  feel  the  manliness 
which  comes  of  drawing  a  salary  for  services  rendered. 
That  is  more  American.  You  see  how  useful  Brooks 
has  made  himself.  Now,  why  can't  you  work  yourself 
into  a  similar  position  ?  In  the  future,  the  charge  of 
the  entire  establishment  may  devolve  upon  you.  All 


fcj  THE  COLOSSUS. 

that  a  real  man  wants  is  a  chance,  and  such  a  chance  a< 
I  now  urge  upon  you  falls  to  the  lot  of  but  few  young 
men.  Had  such  an  opportunity  been  given  to  me  when 
I  was  young,  I  should  have  regarded  myself  as  one 
specially  favored  by  the  partial  goddess  of  fortune." 

He  was  now  walking  up  and  down  the  room.  He 
spoke  with  fervor,  and  Henry  saw  how  strong  he  was 
and  wondered  not  at  his  great  success. 

"I  don't  often  resort  to  figures  of  speech,"  Wither- 
spoon  continued,  "but  even  the  most  practical  man 
feels  sometimes  that  illustration  is  a  necessity.  Words 
are  the  trademarks  of  the  goods  stored  in  the  mind,  and 
a  flashy  expression  proclaims  the  flimsy  trinket." 

Was  his  unwonted  indulgence  in  wine  at  dinner  play, 
ing  rhetorical  tricks  with  his  mind  ? 

"I  spoke  just  now  of  the  partial  goddess  of  fortune," 
the  merchant  continued,  "in  the  hope  that  I  might 
impress  you  with  a  deplorable  truth.  Fortune  is  vested 
with  a  peculiar  discrimination.  It  appears  more  often 
to  favor  the  unjust  than  the  just.  Ability  and  a  life  of 
constant  wooing  do  not  always  win  success,  for  luck, 
the  factotum  of  fortune,  often  bestows  in  one  minute  a 
success  which  a  life-time  of  stubborn  toil  could  not  have 
achieved.  Therefore,  I  say  to  you,  think  well  of  your 
position,  and  instead  of  drawing  idly  upon  your  great 
advantage,  add  to  it.  Successful  men  are  often  nig- 
gardly of  advice,  while  the  prattling  tongue  nearly 
always  belongs  to  failure  ;  therefore,  when  a  successful 
man  does  advise,  heed  him.  I  think  that  I  should  have 
succeeded  in  nearly  any  walk  of  life.  Sturdy  New  Eng- 
land stock,  the  hard  necessity  for  thrift,  and  the  prac- 
tical common  school  fitted  me  to  push  my  way  to  the 
front.  Don't  think  that  I  am  boasting.  It  is  no  more 


THE  COLOSSUS.  69 

of  vanity  for  one  to  say  '  I  have  succeeded  '  than  to  say  '  I 
will  succeed/"  He  paused  a  moment  and  stood  near 
Henry's  chair.  "  Yon  have  the  chance  to  become  what 
I  cannot  be  —  one  of  the  wealthiest  men  in  this  coun- 
try." He  sat  down,  and  leaning  back  in  his  leather- 
severed  chair,  stretched  forth  his  legs  and  crossed  his 
slippered  feet.  He  looked  at  Henry. 

"  To  some  men  success  is  natural,  and  to  others  it  is 
impossible,"  Henry  replied.  "I  can  well  see  that  pros- 
perity could  not  long  have  kept  beyond  your  reach. 
Your  mind  led  you  in  a  certain  direction,  and  instead 
of  resisting,  you  gladly  followed  it.  You  say  that  you 
should  have  been  a  success  in  any  walk  of  life,  and 
while  it  is  true  that  you  would  have  made  money,  it 
does  not  follow  that  you  would  have  found  that  con- 
tentment which  is  beyond  all  earthly  price.  I  admit 
that  the  opportunity  which  you  offer  me  is  one  of  rarest 
advantage,  but  knowing  myself,  I  feel  that  in  "accept- 
4ng  it  I  should  be  doing  you  an  injustice.  It  may  be  so 
strange  to  you  that  you  can't  understand  it,  yet  I 
haven't  a  single  commercial  instinct ;  and  to  be  frank 
with  you,  that  great  store  would  be  a  penitentiary  to 
me.  Wait  a  moment."  Witherspoon  had  bounded  to 
"lis  feet.  "I  am  willing  to  do  almost  anything,"  Henry 
continued,  "but  I  can't  consent  to  a  complete  darken- 
ing of  my  life.  I  admit  that  I  am  peculiar,  and  shall 
not  dispute  you  in  your  belief  that  my  mind  is  not 
strong,  but  I  am  firm  when  it  comes  to  purpose.  To 
hear  one  say  that  he  doesn't  care  to  be  the  richest  man 
in  the  country  may  strike  you  as  the  utterance  of  a 
fool,  and  yet  I  am  compelled  to  say  it.  I  don't  want 
you  to  make  me  an  allowance.  I  don't  want " 

"  What  in  God's  name  do  you  want,  sir  ! "  Wither- 


70  THE  COLOSSUS. 

spoon  exclaimed.  He  was  walking  up  and  down  the 
room,  not  with  the  regular  paces  which  had  marked  his 
stroll  a  few  moments  before,  but  with  the  uneven  tread 
of  anger.  "  What  in  Gou's  name  can  you  ask  ?  " 

He  turned  upon  Henry,  and  standing  still,  gave  him 
a  look  of  hard  inquiry. 

"  I  ask  nothing  in  God's  name,  and  surely  nothing  in 
my  own.  I  knew  that  this  would  put  you  out,  and  I 
dreaded  it,  but  it  had  to  come.  Suppose  that  at  my 
age  the  opportunity  to  manage  a  cattle  ranch  had  been 
offered  you." 

"  I  would  have  taken  it ;  I  would  have  made  it  the 
biggest  cattle  ranch  in  the  country.  It  galls  me,  sir,  it 
galls  me  to  see  my  own  children  sticking  up  their  noses 
at  honest  employment." 

"  Pardon  me,  but  so  far  as  I  am  concerned  you  are 
wrong.  I  seek  honest  employment.  But  what  is  the 
most  honest  employment  ?  Any  employment  that 
yields  an  income  ?  No ;  but  the  work  that  one  is 
best  fitted  for  and  which  is  therefore  the  most  satis- 
factory. If  you  had  shaped  my  .early  life  " 

"  Andrew  was  a  fool !  "  Witherspoon  broke  in.  "  He 
was  crazy." 

"But  he  was  something  of  a  gentleman,  sir." 

"  Gentleman  ! "  Witherspoon  snorted  ;  "  he  was  the 
worst  of  all  thieves  —  a  child-stealer." 

"  And  had  you  been  entirely  blameless,  sir  ?  " 

"What!  and  do  you  reproach  me  ?  Now  look  here." 
He  pointed  a  shaking  finger  at  Henry.  "Don't  you 
ever  hint  at  such  a  thing  again-.  My  God,  this  is  dis- 
graceful!" he  muttered,  resuming  his  uneven  walk. 
"  My  hopes  were  so  built  up.  Now  you  knock  them 


THE  COLOSSUS.  71 

down.  What  the  devil  do  you  want,  sir ! "  he  exclaimed, 
wheeling  about. 

"I  will  tell  you  if  you  will  listen." 

"  Oh,  yes,  of  course  you  will.  It  will  no  doubt  do 
you  great  good  to  humiliate  me. " 

"  When  you  feel,  sir,  that  I  am  humiliating  ycra,  one 
word  is  all  you  need  to  say." 

"What's  that  ?  Come  now,  no  foolish  threats. 
What  is  it  you  want  to  do  ?  " 

"I  have  an  idea,"  Henry  answered,  "that  I  could 
manage  a  newspaper." 

"  The  devil  you  have." 

"  Yes,  the  devil  I  have,  if  you  insist.  I  am  a  news- 
paper  man  and  I  like  the  work.  It  holds  a  fascination 
for  me  while  everything  else  is  dull.  Now,  I  have  a 
proposal  to  make,  not  a  modest  one,  perhaps,  but  one 
which  I  hope  you  will  patiently  consider — if  you  can. 
It  would  be  easy  for  you  to  get  control  of  some  after- 
noon newspaper.  I  can  take  charge  of  it,  and  in  time 
pay  back  the  money  you  invest.  I  don't  ask  you  to 
give  me  a  cent." 

The  merchant  was  about  to  reply,  when  Mrs.  Wither- 
spoon  entered  the  room.  "  Why,  what  is  the  matter  ?  " 
she  asked. 

Witherspoon  resumed  his  seat,  shoved  his  hands  deep 
into  his  pockets,  stretched  forth  his  legs,  crossed  his 
feet  and  nervously  shook  them. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  she  repeated. 

"Everything's  the  matter,"  Witherspoon  declared. 
"I  have  suggested"  —  he  didn't  say  demanded  —  "that 
Henry  should  go  into  the  store  and  gradually  take 
charge  of  the  whole  thing,  and  he  positively  refuses. 


72  THE  COLOSSUS. 

He  wants  to  run  a  newspaper."  The  merchant  grunted 
and  shook  his  feet. 

"  But  is  there  anything  so  bad  about  that  ? "  she 
asked.  "I  am  sure  it  is  no  more  than  natural.  Mj, 
uncle  Louis  used  to  write  for  the  Salem  Monitor." 

He  looked  at  her — he  did  not  say  a  word,  but  he 
looked  at  her. 

"  And  Uncle  Harvey  " 

He  grunted,  flounced  out  of  his  chair  and  quitted  the 
room. 

"Mother,"  said  Henry,  getting  up  and  taking  her 
hand,  "  I  am  grieved  that  this  dispute  arose.  I  kno-w 
that  he  is  set  in  his  ways,  and  it  is  unfortunate  that  I 
was  compelled  to  cross  him,  but  it  had  to  come  soonet 
or  later." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  but  I  don't  blame  you,  my  son.  Ii 
you  don't  want  to  go  into  the  store,  why  should  you  ?  " 

They  heard  Witherspoon's  jolting  walk,  up  and  down 
the  hall. 

"You  have  but  one  life  here  on  this  earth,"  she  said, 
"and  I  don't  see  why  you  should  make  that  one  life 
miserable  by  engaging  in  something  that  is  distasteful 
to  you.  But  if  your  father  has  a  fault  it  is  that  ho 
believes  every  one  should  think  as  he  does.  Don't  &ij 
anything  more  to  him  to-night." 

When  Henry  went  out  Witherspoon  was  still  walking 
up  and  down  the  hall.  They  passed,  but  took  not  the 
slightest  notice  of  each  other.  How  different  from  the 
night  before.  Henry  lay  awake,  thinking  of  the  dead 
boy,  and  pictured  his  eternal  sleeping-place,  hard 
by  the  stormy  sea. 


CHAPTER  X. 

ROMPED  WITH  THE   GIRL. 

THE  morning  was  heavy  and  almost  breathless.  The 
smoke  of  the  city  hung  low  in  the  streets.  Henry 
had  passed  through  a  dreamful  and  uneasy  sleep.  He 
thought  it  wise  to  remain  in  his  room  until  the  mer- 
chant was  gone  down  town,  and  troublously  he  had 
begun  to  doze  again  when  Ellen's  voice  aroused  him. 
"  Come  on  down  ! "  she  cried,  tapping  on  the  door. 
"  You  just  ought  to  see  what  the  newspapers  have  said 
about  you.  Everybody  in  the  neighborhood  is  staring 
at  us.  Come  on  down." 

"\Yitherspoon  was  sitting  on  a  sofa  with  a  pile  of 
newspapers  beside  him.  He  looked  up  as  Henry- 
entered,  and  in  the  expression  of  his  face  there  was 
no  displeasure  to  recall  the  controversy  of  the  night 
before. 

""Well,  sir,"  said  he,  "they  have  given  you  a  broad 
spread." 

The  reporters  had  done  their  work  well.  It  was  a 
great  sensation.  Henry  was  variously  described.  One 
report  said  that  he  had  a  dreaminess  of  eye  that  was  not 
characteristic  of  this  strong,  pragmatic  family ;  another 
declared  him  to  be  "tall,  rather  handsome,  black- 
bearded,  and  with  the  quiet  sense  of  humor  that 
belongs  to  the  temperament  of  a  modest  man."  One 
reporter  had  noticed  that  his  Southern-cut  clothes  did 
not  fit  him. 

73 


74  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"He  might  have  said  something  nicer  than  that," 
Ellen  remarked,  with  a  natural  protest  against  this 
undue  familiarity. 

"  I  don't  know  why  we  should  be  spoken  of  as  a  prag- 
matic family,"  said  Mrs.  Witherspoon.  "Of  course 
your  father  has  always  been  in  business,  but  I  don't 
see" 

"Witherspoon  began  to  grunt.  "It's  all  right,"  said 
he.  "  It's  all  right. "  He  had  to  say  something.  "  Come, 
I  must  get  down  town." 

"  Shall  I  go  with  you  ?  "  Henry  asked. 

For  a  moment  Witherspoon  was  silent.  "  Xot  unless 
you  want  to,"  he  answered. 

They  sat  down  to  breakfast.  Henry  nervously  ex- 
pected another  outbreak.  The  merchant  began  to  say 
something,  but  stopped  on  a  half  utterance  and  cleared 
his  throat.  "It  is  corning,"  Henry  thought. 

"I  have  studied  over  our  talk  of  last  night,"  said 
Witherspoon,  "and  while  I  won't  say  that  you  may  be 
right,  or  have  any  excuse  for  presuming  that  you  are 
right,  I  am  inclined  to  indulge  that  wild  scheme  of 
yours  for  a  while.  My  impression  is  that  you'll  soon  get 
sick  of  it." 

Mrs.  Witherspoon  looked  at  him  thankfully.  "  And 
you  will  give  him  a  chance,  father,"  she  said. 

"Didn't  I  say  I  would?  Isn't  that  exactly  what  1 
said  ?  Gracious  alive,  don't  make  me  out  a  grinding 
and  unyielding  monster.  "We'll  look  round,  Henry, 
and  see  what  can  be  done.  Brooks  may  know  of  some 
opening.  You'd  better  rest  here  to-day. " 

"I  am  .deeply  grateful,  sir,  for  the  concession  you 
have  made,"  Henry  replied.  "I  know  how  you  feel  on 
the  subject,  and  I  regret " 


THE  COLOSSUS.  75 

"All  right." 

"  Eegret  that  I  was  forced  " 

"I  said  it  was  all  right." 

"  Forced  to  oppose  you,  but  I  don't  think  that  you'll 
have  cause  to  feel  ashamed  of  me." 

"  You  have  already  made  me  feel  proud  of  your  man- 
liness," said  Witherspoon. 

Henry  bowed,  and  Mrs.  Witherspoon  gave  her  hus- 
band an  impulsive  look  of  gratitude.  The  -merchant 
continued  : 

"  You  have  refused  my  offer,  but  you  have  not  pre- 
sumed upon  your  own  position.  Sincerity  expects  a 
reward,  as  a  rule,  and  when  a  man  is  sincere  at  his  own 
expense,  there  is  something  about  him  to  admire.  You 
don't  prefer  to  live  idly — to  draw  on  me — and  I 
should  want  no  stronger  proof  that  you  are,  indeed,  my 
son.  It  is  stronger  than  the  gold  chain  you  brought 
home  with  you,  for  that  might  have  been  found ;  but 
manly  traits  are  not  to  be  picked  up  ;  they  come  of  in- 
heritance. Well,  I  must  go.  I  will  speak  to  Brooks 
and  see  if  anything  can  be  done." 

Rain  began  to  fall.  How  full  of  restful  meditation 
was  this  dripping-time,  how  brooding  with  half-formed, 
languorous  thoughts  that  begin  as  an  idea  and  end  as  a 
reverie.  Sometimes  a  soothing  spirit  which  the  sun 
could  not  evoke  from  its  boundless  fields  of  light  comes 
out  of  the  dark  bosom  of  a  cloud.  A  bright  day 
promises  so  much,  so  builds  our  hopes,  that  our  keenest 
disappointments  seem  to  come  on  a  radiant  morning, 
but  on  a  dismal  day,  when  nothing  has  been  promised, 
a  straggling  pleasure  is  accidentally  found  and  is  pressed 
tlae  closer  to  the  senses  because  it  was  so  unexpected. 

To  Henry  came  the  conviction  that  he  was  doing  his 


76  THE  COLOSSUS. 

duty,  and  yet  he  could  not  at  times  subdue  the  feeling 
that  pleasant  environment  was  the  advocate  that  had 
urged  this  decision.  But  he  refused  to  argue  with  him- 
self. Sometimes  he  strode  after  Mrs.  Witherspoon  as 
she  went  about  the  house,  and  he  knew  that  she  was 
happy  because  he  followed  her ;  and  up  and  down  the 
hall  he  romped  with  Ellen.  They  termed  it  a  frolic 
that  they  should  have  enjoyed  years  ago,  and  they 
laughingly  said  that  from  the  past  they  would  snatch 
their  separated  childhood  and  blend  it  now.  It  was  a 
back-number  pleasure,  they  agreed,  but  that,  like  an  old 
print,  it  held  a  charm  in  its  quaintness.  She  brought 
out  a  doll  that  had  for  years  been  asleep  in  a  little  blue 
trunk.  "  Her  name  is  Bose,"  she  said,  and  with  a  broad 
ribbon  she  deftly  made  a  cap  and  put  it  on  the  doll's 
head.  After  a  while  Hose  was  put  to  sleep  again — the 
bright  little  mummy  of  a  child's  affection,  Henry  called 
her — and  the  playmates  became  older.  She  told  him 
of  the  many  suitors  that  had  sought  to  woo  her  ;  of  rich 
men ;  of  poor  young  fellows  who  strove  to  keep  time  to 
the  quick-changing  tune  of  fashion ;  of  moon-impressed 
youths  who  measured  their  impatient  yearning. 

"  And  when  are  you  going  to  let  one  of  them  take 
you  away  ?  "  Henry  asked.  Holding  his  hand,  she  had 
led  him  in  front  of  a  mirror. 

"  Oh,  not  at  all,"  she  answered,  smiling  at  herself  and 
then  at  him.  "  I  haven't  fallen  in  love  with  anybody 
yet." 

"  And  is  that  necessary  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  know  it  is,  goose.  I'd  be  a  pretty-looking 
thing  to  marry  a  man  I  didn't  love,  wouldn't  I  ?  " 

"  You  are  a  pretty  thir>  g  any  way. " 

"  Oh,  do  you  really  think  so  ?  " 


THE  COLOSSUS.  77 

"I  know  it." 

"  You  are  making  fun  of  me.  If  you  had  met  me 
accidentally,  would  you  have  thought  so  ?  " 

"  Surely  ;  my  eyes  are  always  open  to  the  truth." 

"  If  I  could  meet  such  a  man  as  you  are  I  could  love 
him  — '  with  a  dreaminess  of  eye  not  characteristic  of 
this  strong,  pragmatic  family/" 

She  broke  away  from  him,  but  he  caught  her.  "  If  I 
were  not  related  to  you,"  he  said,  "I  would  be  tempted 
to  kiss  you." 

"  Oh,  you'd  be  tempted  to  kiss  me,  would  you  ?  If 
you  were  not  related  to  me  I  wouldn't  let  you,  but  as  it 
is  —  there  ! " 

His  blood  tingled.  Her  hair  was  falling  about  her 
shoulders.  For  a  moment  it  was  a  strife  for  him  to 
believe  that  she  was  his  sister. 

"Beautiful,"  he  said,  running  his  fingers  through 
her  hair.  "  Somebody  said  that  the  glory  of  a  woman 
is  her  hair ;  and  it  is  true.  It  is  a  glory  that  always 
catches  me." 

"  Does  it  ?  Well,  I  must  put  up  my  glory  before 
papa  comes.  Oh,  you  are  such  a  romp  ;  but  I  was  just 
a  little  afraid  of  you  at  first,  you  were  so  sedate  and 
dreamy  of  eye." 

She  ran  away  from  him,  and  looking  back  with 
mischief  in  her  eyes,  she  hummed  a  schottish,  and 
keeping  time  to  it,  danced  up  the  stairway. 

When  Witherspoon  came  to  dinner  he  said  that  he 
had  consulted  Brooks  and  that  the  resourceful  manager 
knew  of  a  possible  opening. 

The  owner  of  the  Star,  a  politician  who  had 
been  foolish  enough  to  suppose  that  with  the  control 
of  an  editorial  page  he  could  illumine  hie  virtues 


78  THE  COLOSSUS. 

and  throw  darkness  over  his  faults.,  was  willing  to 
part  with  his  experiment.  "  I  think  that  we  can  get 
it  at  a  very  reasonable  figure,"  said  Witherspoon.  And 
after  a  moment's  silence  he  added  :  "  Brooks  can  pull 
you  a  good  many  advertisements  in  a  quiet  way,  and 
possibly  the  thing  may  be  made  to  turn  out  all  right. 
But  I  tell  you  again  that  I  am  very  much  disappointed. 
Your  place  is  with  me — but  we  won't  talk  about  it. 
How  came  you  to  take  up  that  line  of  work  ?  " 

"I  began  by  selling  newspapers." 

Mrs.  Witherspoon  sighed,  and  the  merchant  asked  : 
"  And  did  Andrew  urge  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no.  In  fact  I  was  a  reporter  before  he  knew 
anything  about  it." 

Witherspoon  grunted.  "I  should  have  thought," 
said  he,  "  that  your  uncle  would  have  looked  after  you 
with  more  care.  Did  you  receive  a  regular  course  of 
training  ? "  Henry  looked  at  him.  "  At  school,  I 
mean." 

"  Yes,  in  an  elementary  way.  Afterward  I  studied 
in  the  public  library. " 

"A  good  school,  but  not  cohesive,"  Witherspoon 
replied.  "A  thousand  scraps  of  knowledge  don't  make 
an  education." 

"Father,  you  remember  my  uncle  Harvey,"  said  Mrs. 
Witherspoon. 

"Hum,  yes,  I  remember  him." 

"Well,  his  education  did  not  prevent  his  having  a 
thousand  scraps  of  knowledge." 

"I  should  think  not,"  Witherspoou  replied.  "Xo 
man's  knowledge  interferes  with  his  education." 

"My  uncle  Harvey  knew  nearly  everything,"  Mrs. 
Witherspoou  went  on.  "He  could  make  a  clock  ;  and 


THE  COLOSSUS'.  79 

he  was  one  of  the  best  school  teachers  in  the  country. 
I  shouldn't  think  that  education  consists  in  committing 
a  few  rules  to  memory." 

"  No,  Caroline,  not  in  the  committing  of  a  thousand 
rules  to  memory,  but  without  rule  there  is  no  complete 
education." 

"  I  shouldn't  think  that  there  could  be  a  complete 
education  anyway,"  she  rejoined,  in  a  tone  which 
Henry  knew  was  meant  in  defense  of  himself. 

"Of  course  not,"  said  the  merchant,  and  turning 
from  the  subject  as  from  something  that  could  interest 
him  but  little,  he  again  took  up  the  newspaper  project. 
"  We'll  investigate  thht  matter  to-morrow,  and  if  you 
are  still  determined  to  go  into  it,  the  sooner  the  better. 
My  own  opinion  is  that  you  will  soon  get  tired  of  it,  in 
view  of  the  better  advantages  that  I  urge  upon  you,  for 
the  worries  of  an  experimental  concern  will  serve  to 
strengthen  my  proposal." 

"  I  .am  resolved  that  in  the  end  it  shall  cost  you 
nothing,"  Henry  replied. 

"  Hum,  we'll  see  about  that.  But  whatever  you  do, 
do  it  earnestly,  for  a  failure  in  one  line  does  not  argue 
success  in  another  direction.  In  business  it  is  well  to 
beware  of  men  who  have  failed.  They  bring  bad  luck. 
Without  success  there  may  be  vanity,  but  there  can  be 
but  little  pride,  little  self-respect." 

Henry  moved  uneasily  in  his  chair.  "But  among 
those  who  have  failed,"  he  replied,  "we  often  find  the 
highest  types  of  manhood." 

"Nonsense,"  rejoined  the  merchant.  "That  is 
merely  a  poetic  idea.  What  do  you  mean  by  the 
highest  type  of  manhood  ?  Men  whose  theories  have  all 
been  proved  to  be  wrong  ?  Great  men  have  an  aim  ana 


00  THE  COLOSSUS. 

accomplish  it.  America  is  a  great  country,  and  why  ? 
Because  it  is  prosperous." 

"  I  don't  mean  that  failure  necessarily  implies  that  a 
man's  aim  has  been  high,"  said  Henry,  "neither  do  I 
think  that  financial  success  is  greatness.  But  our 
views  are  at  variance  and  I  fear  that  we  shall  never  be 
able  to  reconcile  them.  I  may  be  wrong,  and  it  is  more 
than  likely  that  I  am.  At  times  I  feel  that  there  is 
nothing  in  the  entire  scheme  of  life.  If  a  man  is  too 
serious  we  call  him  a  pessimist ;  if  he  is  too  happy  we 
know  that  he  is  an  idiot." 

"Henry,  you  are  too  young  a  man  to  talk  that  way." 

"My  son,"  said  Mrs.  Witherspoon,  "the  Lord  has 
nade  us  for  a  special  purpose,  and  we  ought  not  to 
question  His  plans." 

"No,  mother,"  Ellen  spoke  up,  "but  we  should  like 
to  know  something  about  that  especial  part  of  the  plan 
which  relates  to  us." 

"  My  daughter,  this  is  not  a  question  for  you  to  dis- 
cuss. Your  duty  in  this  life  is  so  clearly  marked  out 
that  there  can  be  no  mistake  about  it.  With  my  son  it 
has  unfortunately  been  different." 

The  girl  smiled.  "A  woman's  duty  is  not  so  clearly 
marked  out  now  as  it  used  to  be,  mother.  As  long  as 
man  was  permitted  to  mark  it  out  her  duty  was  clear 
enough  —  to  him." 

"Hum!"  Witherspoon  grunted,  "we  are  about  to 
have  a  woman's  advancement  session.  Will  you  please 
preside  ?  "  he  added,  nodding  at  Ellen.  She  laughed  at 
him.  He  continued:  "After  a  while  Vassar  will  be 
nothing  but  a  woman's  convention.  Henry,  we  will  go 
down  to-morrow  and  look  after  that  newspaper." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

ACKNOWLEDGED  BY  SOCIETY. 

THE  politician  was  surprised.  He  had  not  supposed 
that  any  one  even  suspected  that  he  wanted  to  get 
rid  of  the  Star ;  indeed,  he  was  not  aware  that  the 
public  knew  of  his  ownership  of  that  paper.  It  was  a 
very  valuable  piece  of  property ;  but  unfortunately  his 
time  was  so  taken  up  with  other  matters  that  he  could 
not  give  it  the  attention  it  deserved.  Its  circula- 
tion was  growing  every  day,  and  with  proper  manage- 
ment its  influence  could  be  extended  to  every  corner  of 
the  country.  "Witherspoon  replied  that  he  was  surprised 
to  hear  that  the  paper  was  doing  so  well.  He  did  not 
often  see  a  copy  of  it.  The  politician  and  the  merchant 
understood  each  other,  and  the  bargain  was  soon  brought 
to  a  close. 

And  now  the  time  for  the  reception  was  at  hand.  A 
florist's  wagon  stood  in  front  of  the  door,  and  the  young 
man  thought,  "  This  is  my  funeral."  Every  preparation 
gave  him  a  shudder.  Ellen  laughed  at  him. 

"It's  well  enough  for  you  to  laugh,"  said  he,  "for  you 
are  safe  in  the  amphitheater  while  I  am  in  the  ring 
with  the  bull." 

"  Why,  you  great  big  goose,  is  anybody  going  to  hurt 
you?" 

"  No ;  and  that's  the  trouble.  If  somebody  were  to 
hurt  me,  I  could  relieve  myself  of  embarrass Jient  by 
taking  up  revenge." 

6  8S, 


82  THE  COLOSSUS. 

At  the  very  eleventh  hour  of  preparation  he  was  not 
only  reconciled  to  the  affliction  of  a  reception,  but 
appeared  rather  to  look  with  favor  upon  the  affair. 
And  it  was  this  peculiar  reasoning  that  brought  him 
round :  "  I  am  here  in  place  of  another.  I  am  not 
known.  I  am  as  a  writer  who  hides  behind  a  pen- 
name." 

The  evening  came  with  a  rumble  of  carriages.  An 
invitation  to  a  reception  means,  "  Come  and  be  pleased. 
Frowns  are  to  be  left  at  home."  The  difference  be- 
tween one  society  gathering  and  another  is  the  differ- 
ence that  exists  between  two  white  shoes  —  one  may  be 
larger  than  the  other.  Witherspoon  was  lordly,  and  in 
his  smile  a  stranger  might  have  seen  a  life  of  gener- 
osities. And  with  what  a  welcoming  dignity  he  took 
the  hand  that  in  its  time  had  cut  the  throats  of  a 
thousand  hogs.  Diamonds  gleamed  in  the  mellowed 
light,  and  there  were  smiles  none  the  less  radiant  for 
having  been  carefully  trained.  The  evening  was  warm. 
There  was  a  wing-like  movement  of  feathered  fans. 
Scented  time  was  flying  away. 

The  guests  were  gone,  and  Henry  sat  in  his  room. 
He  had  thrown  off  the  garments  which  convention  had 
prescribed,  and  now,  with  his  feet  on  a  table,  he  sat 
smoking  an  old  black  pipe  that  he  had  lolled  with  on 
the  mountains  of  Costa  Rica.  The  night  which  was 
now  ending  waved  back  for  review.  Ellen,  beautiful  in 
an  empire  gown,  golden  yellow,  brocaded  satin.  "  Why 
did  you  try  to  dodge  this  ?  "  she  had  asked  in  a  whisper. 
"You  are  the  most  self-possessed  man  in  the  house. 
Can't  you  see  how  proud  we  all  are  of  you  ?  I  have 
never  seen  mother  so  happy." 

The  perfume  of  praise  was  in  the  air.     "  Oh,  I  think 


THE  COLOSSUS.  83 

your  brother  is  just  charming,"  a  young  woman  had 
said  to  Ellen,  and  Henry  had  caught  the  words. 

"He  is  like  my  mother's  people."  Mrs.  Witherspoon 
was  talking  to  a  woman  whose  hair  had  been  grayed  and 
who  appeared  to  enjoy  the  distinction  of  being  an  in- 
valid. The  Coltons  and  the  Brooks  contingent  had 
smeared  him  with  compliments.  There  was  a  literary 
group,  and  the  titles  of  a  hundred  books  were  mentioned ; 
one  writer  was  charming ;  another  was  horrid.  There 
was  the  group  of  household  government,  and  the  serv- 
ant-girl question,  which  has  never  been  found  in  repose, 
was  tossed  from  one  woman  to  another  and  caught  as  a 
bag  of  sweets.  In  the  library  was  a  commercial  and 
real-estate  gathering,  and  the  field  of  speculation  was 
broken  up,  harrowed  and  seeded  down. 

The  black-bearded  muser  put  his  pipe  aside,  and  from 
thia  glowing  scene  his  thoughts  flew  away  into  a  dark 
night  when  he  stood  in  Ulmata,  knocking  at  the  door 
of  a  deserted  house.  He  got  up  and  stood  at  the  win- 
dow. Sparrows  twittered.  Threads  of  gray  dawn 
streaked  the  black  warp  of  night. 

At  morning  there  was  another  spread  in  the  news- 
papers. The  wonder  of  a  few  days  had  spent  its  force, 
and  the  Witherspoon  sensation  was  done. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A  DEMOCRACY. 

Star  was  printed  in  an  old  building  where  more 
than  one  newspaper  had  failed.  The  interior  of 
the  place  was  so  comfortless  in  arrangement,  so  subject 
to  unaccountable  drafts  of  cold  air  in  winter  and 
breaths  of  hot  oppression  in  summer,  that  it  must  have 
been  built  especially  for  a  newspaper  office.  Henry 
found  that  the  working  force  consisted  mainly  of  a  few 
young  reporters  and  a  large  force  of  editorial  writers. 
The  weakness  of  nearly  every  newspaper  is  its  editorial 
page,  and  especially  so  when  the  paper  is  owned  by  a 
politician.  The  new  manager  straightway  began  a  re- 
organization. It  was  an  easy  matter  to  form  an  effi- 
cient staff,  for  in  every  city  some  of  the  best  newspaper 
men  are  out  of  employment  —  the  bright  and  uncertain 
writers  who  have  been  shoved  aside  by  trustworthy 
plodders.  He  did  not  begin  as  one  who  knows  it  all, 
but  he  sought  the  co-operation  of  practical  men.  The 
very  man  who  knew  that  the  paper  could  not  do  with- 
out him  was  told  that  his  services  were  no  longer 
needed.  In  his  day  he  had  spread  many  an  acre  of 
platitudes  ;  he  had  hammered  the  tariff  mummy,  and 
at  every  lick  he  had  knocked  out  the  black  dust ;  he 
had  snorted  loud  in  controversy,  and  was  arrogant  in 
the  certainty  that  his  blowhard  sentence  was  the  frosty 
air  of  satire.  He  was  the  representative  of  a  class. 
To  him  all  clearness  of  expression  was  shallowness  of 

84 


THE  COLOSSUS.  85 

thought,  and  brightness  was  the  essence  of  frivolity. 
He  soon  found  another  place,  for  some  of  the  Chicago 
newspapers  still  set  a  premiun  upon  windy  dullness. 

Among  the  writers  whom  Henry  decided  to  retain 
was  Laura  Drury.  She  wrote  book  reviews  and  scraps 
which  were  supposed  to  be  of  interest  to  women.  Her 
room  opened  into  Henry's,  and  through  a  door  which 
was  never  shut  he  could  see  her  at  work.  The  bright- 
ness and  the  modesty  of  her  face  attracted  him.  She 
could  not  have  been  more  than  twenty  years  of  age. 

"  Have  you  been  long  in  newspaper  work  T "  he 
asked,  Avhen  she  had  come  in  to  submit  something  to 
him. 

"Only  a  short  time,"  she  answered,  and  returned  at 
once  to  her  desk.  Henry  looked  at  her  as  she  proceeded 
with  her  work.  Her  presence  seemed  to  refine  the 
entire  office.  He  fancied  that  her  hair  made  the  room 
brighter.  His  curiosity  was  awakened  by  one  touch  of 
her  presence.  He  sought  to  know  more  of  her,  and 
when  she  had  come  in  again  to  consult  him,  he  said  : 
"Wait  a  moment,  please.  How  long  have  you  been 
connected  with  this  paper  ?  " 

"About  three  months,  regularly." 

"  Had  you  worked  on  any  other  paper  in  the  city  ?  " 

"No,  sir  ;  I  have  never  worked  on  any  other  paper." 

"  Have  you  lived  here  long  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  I  have  been  here  only  a  short  time.  I  am 
from  Missouri." 

"  You  didn't  come  alone,  did  you  ?  " 

She  glanced  at  him  quickly  and  answered  :  "  I  came 
alone,  but  I  live  with  my  aunt." 

She  returned  to  her  work,  and  she  must  have  dis- 


86  THE  COLOSSUS. 

covered  that  he  was  watching  her,  for  the  next  day  he 
saw  that  she  had  moved  her  desk. 

Henry  had  applied  for  membership  in  the  Press  Club, 
and  one  morning  a  reporter  told  him  that  he  had  been 
elected. 

"  Was  there  any  opposition  ? "  the  editor  asked. 

"Not  after  the  boys  learned  that  you  had  been  a 
reporter.  You  can  go  over  at  any  time  and  sign  the 
constitution." 

"I'll  go  now.     Suppose  you  come  with  me." 

The  Press  Club  of  Chicago  is  a  democracy.  Money 
holds  but  little  influence  within  its  precincts,  for  its 
ablest  members  are  generally  "broke."  There  are  no 
rules  hung  on  its  walls,  no  cool  ceremonies  to  be  observed. 
Its  atmosphere  invites  a  man  to  be  natural,  and  warns 
him  to  conceal  his  vanities.  Among  that  body  of  men 
no  pretense  is  sacred.  Here  men  of  Puritan  ancestry 
find  it  well  to  curb  a  puritanical  instinct.  A  stranger 
may  be  shocked  by  a  snort  of  profanity,  but  if  he  listen 
he  will  hear  a  bright  and  poetic  blending  of  words  rip- 
pling after  it.  A  great  preacher,  whose  sermons  are 
read  by  the  world,  sat  one  day  in  the  club,  uttering  the 
slow  and  heavy  sentences  of  an  oracle.  He  touched  his 
finger  tips  together.  He  was  discoursing  on  some  phase 
of  life  ;  and  an  old  night  police  reporter  listened  for  a 
moment  and  said,  "  Rats  !  "  The  great  man  was  star- 
tled. Accustomed  to  deliver  his  theories  to  a  silent 
congregation,  he  was  astonished  to  find  that  his  wisdom 
could  so  irreverently  be  questioned.  The  reporter  meant 
no  disrespect,  but  he  could  not  restrain  his  contempt  for 
so  presuming  a  piece  of  ignorance.  He  turned  to  the 
preacher  and  showed  him  where  his  theories  were  wrong. 
With  a  pin  he  touched  the  bubble  of  the  great  man's 


THE  COLOSSUS.  87 

presn  nation,  and  it  was  done  kindly,  for  when  the  sage 
arose  ',o  go  he  said  :  "  I  must  confess  that  I  have  learned 
something.  I  fear  that  a  preacher's  library  does  not  con- 
tain all  that  is  worth  knowing."  And  this,  more  than 
any  of  his  sermons,  proved  his  wisdom. 

In  the  Press  Club  the  pulse  of  the  town  can  be  felt, 
and  scandals  that  money  and  social  influence  have  sup- 
r  ressed  are  known  there.  The  characters  of  public 
len  are  correctly  estimated  ;  snobs  are  laughed  at  j  and 
he  society  woman  who  seeks  to  bribe  the  press  with 
;he  cajolery  of  a  smile  is  a  familiar  joke.  Of  course 
this  is  not  wholly  a  harmonious  body,  for  keen  intelli- 
gence is  never  in  smooth  accord  with  itself.  To  the 
"kicker"  is  given  the  right  to  "kick,"  and  keen  is  the 
enjoyment  of  this  privilege.  Every  directory  is  the 
worst ;  every  officer  neglects  his  duty. 

Literary  societies  know  but  little  of  this  club,  for 
literary  societies  despise  the  affairs  of  the  real  worker 
—  they  are  interested  in  the  bladdery  essay  written  by 
the  fashionable  ass. 

Henry  was  shown  into  a  large  room,  brightly  carpeted 
and  hung  with  portraits.  On  a  leather  lounge  a  man 
lay  asleep  ;  at  a  round  table  a  man  sat,  solemnly  play- 
ing solitaire  ;  and  in  one  corner  of  the  apartment  sat 
several  men,  discussing  an  outrageous  clause  in  the  con- 
stitution that  Henry  had  just  signed.  The  new  mem- 
ber was  introduced  to  them.  Among  the  number  were 
John  McGlenn,  John  Richmond  and  a  shrewd  little 
Yankee  named  Whittlesy.  Of  McGlenn's  character  a 
whole  book  might  be  written.  An  individual  almost 
wholly  distinct  from  his  fellow-men  ;  a  castigator  of 
human  weakness  and  yet  a  hero-worshiper  —  not  the 
hero  of  burning  powder  and  fluttering  flags,  but  any 


88  THE  COLOSSUS. 

human  being  whose  brain  had  blazed  and  lighted  the 
world.  Art  was  to  him  the  soul  of  literature.  Had 
he  lived  two  thousand  years  ago,  as  the  founder  of  a 
peculiar  school  of  philosophy,  he  might  still  be  alive. 
If  frankness  be  a  virtue,  he  was  surely  a  reward  unto 
himself.  He  would  calmly  look  into  the  eyes  of  a  poet 
and  say,  "  Yes,  I  read  your  poem.  Do  you  expect  to 
keep  on  attempting  to  write  poetry  ?  But  you  may 
think  better  of  it  after  a  while.  I  wrote  poems  when  I 
was  of  your  age."  He  did  not  hate  men  because  they 
were  wealthy,  but  he  despised  the  methods  that  make 
them  rich.  His  temperament  invited  a  few  people  to  a 
close  friendship  with  him,  and  gently  warned  many  to 
keep  a  respectful  distance.  Aggressive  and  cutting  he 
was,  and  he  often  said  that  death  was  the  best  friend  of 
a  man  who  is  compelled  to  write  for  a  living.  He 
wrote  a  subscription  book  for  a  mere  pittance,  and  one 
of  the  agents  that  sold  it  now  lives  in  a  mansion.  He 
regarded  present  success  as  nothing  to  compare  with  an 
immortal  name  in  the  ages  to  come.  He  was  born  in 
the  country,  and  his  refined  nature  revolted  at  his  rude 
surroundings,  and  ever  afterward  he  held  the  country 
in  contempt.  In  .ater  years  he  had  regarded  himself 
simply  as  a  man  of  talent,  and  when  this  decision  had 
been  reached  he  thought  less  of  life.  If  his  intellectual 
character  lacked  one  touch,  that  touch  would  have 
made  him  a  genius.  When  applied  to  him  the  term 
"gentleman  "  found  Us  befitting  place. 

Careless  observers  of  men  often  passed  Richmond 
without  taking  particular  notice  of  him.  He  was 
rather  undersized,  and  was  bald,  but  his  head  was 
shapely.  He  was  so  sensitive  that  he  often  assumed 
a  brusqueness  in  order  not  to  appear  effeminate.  His 


THE  COLOSSUS.  89 

judgment  of  men  was  as  swift  as  the  sweep  of  a  hawk, 
and  sometimes  it  was  as  sure.  He  had  taken  so  many 
chances,  and  had  so  closely  noted  that  something  which 
we  call  luck,  that  he  might  have  been  touched  a  little 
with  superstition,  hut  his  soul  was  as  broad  as  a  prairie, 
and  his  mind  was  as  penetrating  as  a  drill ;  and  a  fact 
must  have  selected  a  close  hiding-place  to  escape  his 
search.  Sitting  in  his  room,  with  his  plug  of  black 
tobacco,  he  had  explored  the  world.  Stanley  was 
amazed  at  his  knowledge  of  Africa,  and  Elaine  marveled 
at  his  acquaintance  with  political  history. 

"We  welcome  you  to  our  club,"  McGlenn  remarked 
when  Henry  had  sat  down,  "  out  are  you  sure  that  this 
is  the  club  you  wanted  to  join  ,' " 

Henry  was  surprised.  "Of  course  I  am.  "Why  do 
you  ask  that  question  F  " 

"  Because  you  are  a  rich  man,  and  this  is  the  home  of 
modesty." 

Henry  reached  over  and  shook  hands  with  him.  "I 
like  that,"  said  he,  "and  let  me  assure  you  that  you  have 
in  one  sentence  made  me  feel  that  I  really  belong  here, 
not  because  I  am  particularly  modest,  but  because  your 
sentiments  are  my  own.  I  am  not  a  rich  man,  but 
even  if  I  were  I  should  prefer  this  group  to  the  hyphen- 
ated"  

"Fools,"  McGlenn  suggested. 

"Yes,"  Henry  agreed,  "the  hyphenated  fools  that  I 
im  compelled  to  meet.  George  Witherspoon  is  a  rich 
/nan,  but  his  money  does  not  belong  to  me.  I  didn't 
help  him  earn  any  of  it ;  I  borrowed  money  from  him, 
And,  so  soon  as  I  can,  I  shall  return  it  with  interest." 

"John,"  said  Richmond,  "you  were  wrong  —  as  you 
asaally  are  —  in  asking  Mr.  Witherspoon  that  question, 


90  THE  COLOSSUS. 

but  in  view  of  the  fact  that  yon  enabled  him  to  put  him- 
self  so  agreeably  on  record,  we  will  excuse  your  lack,  of 
courtesy." 

"  I  don't  permit  any  man  who  goes  fishing  with  any 
sort  of  ignorant  lout,  and  who  spends  a  whole  day  in  a  boat 
with  him,  to  tell  me  when  I  am  lacking  in  courtesy." 

Richmond  laughed,  put  his  hand  to  his  mouth,  threw 
back  his  head  and  replied  :  "  I  go  fishing,  not  for  soci- 
ety, but  for  amusement ;  and,  by  the  way,  I  think  it 
would  do  you  good  to  go  fishing,  even  with  an  ignorant 
lout.  You  might  learn  something." 

"Ah,"  McGlenn  .rejoined,  "you  have  disclosed  the 
source  of  much  of  your  information.  You  learn  f*om 
the  ignorant  that  you  may  confound  the  wise." 

Richmond  put  his  hand  to  his  mouth.  "At  some 
playful  time,"  said  he,  "I  might  seek  to  confound  the 
wise,  but  I  should  never  so  far  forget  myself  as  to  make 
an  experiment  on  you." 

"Mr.  Witherspoon,"  remarked  McGlenn,  "we  will 
turn  from  this  rude  barbarian  and  give  our  attention  to 
Mr.  Whittlesy,  who  knows  all  about  dogs." 

"If  he  knows  all  about  dogs,"  Henry  replied,  "he 
must  be  well  acquainted  with  some  of  the  most  promi- 
nent traits  of  man." 

"I  am  not  talking  much  to-day,"  said  Whittlesy, 
ducking  his  head.  "  I  went  fooling  round  the  Board  of 
Trade  yesterday;  and  they  got  me,  and  they  got  me 
good." 

"  How  much  did  they  catch  you  for,  Whit  ?  "  McGlenn 
asked. 

"  I  won't  say,  but  they  got  me,  and  got  me  good,  but 
never  mind.  I'll  go  after  'em." 

The  man  who  had  been  asleep  on  the  leather  lounge 


THE  COLOSSUS.  91 

got  up,  stretched  himself,  looked  about  for  a  moment, 
and  then,  coming  over  to  the  group,  said  :  "  What's  all 
this  bloody  rot  ?  "  Seeing  a  stranger,  he  added,  by  way 
of  apology  :  "  I  thought  this  was  the  regular  roasting 
lay-out." 

"Mr.  Witherspoon,"  said  Richmond,  "let  me  intro- 
duce Mr.  Mortimer,  an  old  member  of  the  club  ;  "  and 
when  the  introduction  had  been  acknowledged,  Rich- 
"taond  added  :  "  Mortimer  has  just  thought  of  some- 
thing mean  to  say  and  has  come  over  to  say  it.  He 
dozes  himself  full  of  venom  and  then  has  to  get  rid 
of  it." 

"  Our  friend  Richmond  is  about  as  truthful  as  he  is 
complimentary,"  Mortimer  replied. 

"Yes,"  said  Richmond,  "but  if  I  were  no  more  com- 
plimentary than  you  are  truthful,  I  should  have  a  slam 
for  eferybody." 

"Oh,  ho,  ho,  no,"  McGlenn  cried,  and  Richmond 
shouted  :  "  Oh,  I  have  been  robbed. " 

Henry  looked  about  for  the  cause  of  this  commotion 
and  saw  a  smiling  man,  portly  and  impressive,  coming 
toward  them  with  a  dignified  mince  in  his  walk.  And 
Mr.  Flummers  was  introduced  with  half-humorous  cere- 
mony. He  had  rather  a  pleasant  expression  of  coun- 
tenance, and  men  who  were  well  acquainted  with  him 
said  that  he  had,  though  not  so  long  of  arm,  an  exten- 
sive reach  for  whisky.  He  was  of  impressive  size,  with 
a  sort  of  Napoleonic  head  ;  and  when  hot  on  the  trail 
of  a  drink,  his  voice  held  a  most  unctuous  solicitude. 
He  was  exceedingly  annoying  to  some  people  and  was  n 
source  of  constant  delight  to  others.  At  one  time  he 
had  formed  the  habit  of  being  robbed,  and  later  on  he 
was  drugged ;  but  no  one  could  conjecture  what  he 


92  THE  COLOSSUS. 

would  next  add  to  his  repertory.  His  troubles  were 
amusing,  his  difficulties  were  humorous,  his  failures 
were  laughable,  and  his  sorrows  were  the  cause  for  jest. 
He  had  a  growing  paunch,  and  when  he  stood  he  leaned 
back  slightly  as  though  his  rotund  front  found  ease  in 
exhibition.  As  a  law  student  he  had  aimed  a  severe 
blow  at  justice,  and  failing  as  an  attorney,  he  had 
served  his  country  a  good  turn.  As  a  reporter  he  wrote 
with  a  torch,  and  wrote  well.  All  his  utterances 
were  declamatory  ;  and  he  had  a  set  of  scallopy  gestures 
that  were  far  beyond  the  successful  mimicry  of  his  fel- 
lows. The  less  he  thought  the  more  wisely  he  talked. 
Meditation  hampered  him,  and  like  a  rabbit,  he  was 
generally  at  his  best  when  he  first  "jumped  up." 

He  shook  hands  with  Henry,  looked  at  him  a  moment 
and  asked  :  "  Are  you  going  to  run  a  newspaper  with  all 
those  old  geysers  you've  got  over  there  ?  " 

The  new  member  winced. 

"Don't  pay  any  attention  to  Flummers,"  John  Rich- 
mond  said. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Flummers  insisted.  "  You  see,  I  know  all 
those  fellows.  Some  of  them  were  worn  out  ten  years 
ago  —  but  say,  are  you  paying  anything  over  there  ?" 

"Yes,  paying  as  much  as  any  paper  in  the  town." 

"  That's  the  stuff ;  but  say,  you  can  afford  it.  Who 
rang  the  bell  ?  Did  anybody  ring  ?  Boy,"  (speaking 
to  a  waiter),  "we  ought  to  have  something  to  drink 
here." 

"  Do  you  want  to  pay  for  it  ?  "  Richmond  asked. 

"  Oh,  ho,  ho,  no,  I'm  busted.  I've  set  'em  up  two  or 
^bree  times  to-day." 

"  Why,  you  stuffed  buffalo  robe,  you  " 

"Oh,  well,  it  was  the  other  day,  then.     I'm  all  the 


THE  COLOSSUS.  93 

time  buying  the  drinks.  If  it  weren't  for  me  you 
geysers  would  dry  up.  Say,  John,  touch  the  bell." 

"Wait,"  said  Henry.     "Have  something  with  me." 

"  Ah,  now  you  command  the  respect  of  the  common- 
wealth!" Flummers  cried.  "By  one  heroic  act  you 
prove  that  your  life  is  not  a  failure.  These  fellows 
round  here  make  me  tired.  Boy,  bring  me  a  little 
whisky.  What  are  you  fellows  going  to  take  ?  What ! 
you  want  a  cigar  ? "  he  added,  speaking  to  Henry. 
"Oh,  I  had  a  great  man  on  my  staff  yesterday — big 
railroad  man.  Do  you  know  that  some  of  those  fellows 
like  to  have  a  man  show  them  how  to  spend  their 
money  ?  I  see  Fm  posted  for  dues.  This  municipality 
must  think  Fm  made  of  money." 

When  he  caught  sight  of  the  boy  coming  with  the 
tray,  a  peculiar  light,  such  as  painters  give  the  face  of 
Hope,  illumined  his  countenance,  and  clasping  his 
hands,  he  unctuously  greeted  himself. 

"Mr.  Flummers,"  said  McGlenn,  "we  all  love  you." 

"Oh,  no." 

"  Yes ;  it  is  disreputable,  but  we  love  you.  It  was  a 
long  time  before  I  discovered  your  beauties.  I  used  to 
think  that  the  men  who  loved  you  were  the  enemies  of 
a  higher  grade  of  life,  and  perhaps  they 'were,  but  I  love 
you.  You  are  a  great  man,  Mr.  Flummers.  Nature 
designed  you  to  be  the  president  of  a  life  insurance 
company." 

"Well,  say,  I  know  that." 

"Yes,"  continued  McGlenn.  "A  life  insurance  com- 
pany ought  to  employ  you  as  a  great  joss,  and  charge 
people  for  the  privilege  of  a  mere  glimpse  of  you." 

"I  shouldn't  think,"  said  Richmond,  "that  a  man 
who  had  committed  murder  in  Nebraska  would  be  so 


94  THE  COLOSSUS. 

extreme  as  to  pose  as  the  president  of  a  life  insurance 
company." 

"Mr.  Flummers,  did  yon  commit  a  murder  in  Ne- 
braska ?  "  McGlenn  asked. 

"Oh,  no." 

"  But  didn't  yon  confess  that  you  killed  a  man  there  ?  " 
Richmond  urged. 

"Oh,  well,  that  was  a  mistake." 

"  What  ?    The  confession  ?  " 

"  No,  the  killing.  You  see,  I  was  out  of  work,  and 
I  struck  a  doctor  for  a  job  in  his  drug-store;  and  once, 
when  the  doctor  was  away,  an  old  fellow  sent  over  to 
have  a  prescription  filled,  and  I  filled  it.  And  when  the 
doctor  returned  he  saw  the  funeral  procession  going 
past  the  store.  He  asked  me  what  it  meant,  and  I  told 
him." 

"Then  what  did  he  say?" 

"  He  asked  me  if  I  got  pay  for  the  prescription.  Oh, 
but  he  was  a  thrifty  man ! "  Flummers  clasped  his 
hands,  threw  himself  back  and  laughed  with  a  jolting 
"he,  he,  he."  "Well,  I've  got  to  go.  Did  anybody 
ring  ?  Say,  John  "  —  to  Richmond  —  "  why  don't  you 
buy  something  ?  " 

"  What  ?  Oh,  you  gulp,  you  succession  of  swallows, 
you  human  sink-hole  !  Flummers,  I  have  bought  you 
whisky  enough  to  overflow  the  Mississippi." 

"  Oh,  ho,  ho,  but  not  to-day,  John.  Past  whisky  is 
a  scandal ;  in  present  whisky  there  lies  a  virtue.  Never 
tell  a  man  what  you  have  done,  John,  lest  he  may  think 
you  boastful,  but  show  him  what  you  will  do  now,  so 
that  he  may  have  the  proof  of  your  ability.  Is  it  pos- 
sible that  I've  got  to  shake  you  fellows  ?  My  time  is 


THE  COLOSSUS.  95 

too  valuable  to  waste  even  with  a  mere  contemplation 
of  your  riotous  living." 

He  walked  away  with  his  mincing  step.  "  There's  a 
character,"  said  Henry,  looking  after  him.  "He  is 
positively  restful." 

"Until  he  wants  a  drink, ""Mortimer  replied,  ''and 
then  he  is  restless.  Well,  I  must  follow  his  example  of 
withdrawal,  if  not  his  precept  of  appetite.  1  am 
pleased  to  have  met  you,  Mr.  Witherspoon,  and  I  hope 
to  see  you  often." 

"  I  think  you  shall,  as  I  intend  to  make  this  my  rest- 
ing-place." 

" There  is  another  character,"  said  McGlenn,  refer- 
ring to  Mortimer.  "He  is  a  very  learned  man,  sc» 
much  so  that  he  has  no  need  of  imagination.  He  is  a 
very  learned  man." 

"  And  he  is  charmed  with  the  prospect  of  saying  a 
mean  thing,"  Richmond  replied.  "I  tell  him  so,"  he 
added,  "  though  that  is  needless,  for  he  knows  it  him- 
self. His  mind  has  traveled  over  a  large  scope  of 
intellectual  territory,  and  he  commands  my  respect 
while  I  object  to  his  methods." 

The  conversation  took  a  serious  turn,  and  Richmond 
flooded  it  with  his  learning.  His  voice  was  low  and  his 
manner  modest — a  great  man  who  in  the  game  of 
human  affairs  played  below  the  limit  of  his  abilities. 
McGlenn  roused  himself.  When  emphatic,  he  had  a 
way  of  turning  out  his  thumb  and  slowly  hammering 
his  knee  with  his  fist.  In  his  sky  there  was  a  cloud  of 
pessimism,  but  the  brightness  of  his  speech  threw  a 
rainbow  across  it.  He  was  a  poet  in  the  garb  of  a 
Diogenes.  Many  of  his  theories  were  wrong,  but  all 


36  THE  COLOSSUS. 


striking.  Sometimes  his  sentences  flashed  like  a 
scythe  swinging  in  the  sunshine. 

Henry  talked  as  he  had  never  found  occasion  to  talk 
before.  These  men  inspired  him,  and  in  acknowledg- 
ment of  this  he  said  :  "  We  may  for  years  carry  in  our 
minds  a  sort  of  mist  that  we  cannot  shape  into  an  idea. 
Suddenly  we  meet  a  man,  and  he  speaks  the  word  of 
life  unto  that  mist,  and  instantly  it  becomes  a  thought." 

Other  members  joined  the  group,  and  the  conversa- 
tion broke  and  flew  into  sharp  fragments.  McGleim 
and  Richmond  began  to  wrangle. 

"Your  children  may  not  read  my  books,"  said  Mc- 
Glenn,  replying  to  some  assertion  that  Richmond  had 
made,  "but  your  great-grandchildren  will." 

"Oh,  that's  possible,"  Richmond  rejoined.  "I  can 
defend  my  immediate  offspring,  while  my  descendants 
may  be  left  without  protection.  If  you  would  tear  the 
didacticism  out  of  your  books  and  inject  a  little  more 
of  the  juice  of  human  interest  —  hold  on  !"  Richmond 
threw  up  his  arm,  as  though  warding  off  a  blow.  "  When 
that  double  line  comes  between  his  eyes  I  always  feel 
that  he  is  going  to  hit  me." 

"I  wouldn't  hit  you.     I  have  some  pity  left.',' 

"  Or  fear  —  which  is  it  ?  " 

"Not  fear;  pity." 

"  Why  don't  you  reserve  some  of  it  for  your  readers  ?  " 

McGlenn  frowned.  "  I  don't  expect  you  to  like  my 
books." 

"  Oh,  you  have  realized  the  fact  that  the  characters 
are  wooden  ?  " 

"  No,  but  I  have  realized  that  they  are  beyond  your 
feeble  grasp.  I  don't  want  you  to  like  my  books."  He 
hammered  his  knee.  "  The  book  that  wins  your  regard 


THE  COLOSSUS.  97 

is  an  exceedingly  bad  production.  When  you  search 
for  facts  you  may  sometimes  go  to  high  sources,  but 
when  you  read  fiction  you  go  to  the  dogs.  A  consistent 
character  in  fiction  is  beyond  you." 

"There  are  no  consistent  characters  in  life,"  said 
Richmond,  "and  a  consistent  character  in  fiction  is 
merely  a  strained  form  of  art.  In  life  the  most  arrant 
coward  will  sometimes  fight ;  the  bravest  man  at  times 
lacks  nerve  ;  the  generous  man  may  sometimes  show  the 
spirit  of  the  niggard.  But  your  character  in  fiction  is 
different.  He  must  be  always  brave,  or  always  generous, 
or  always  niggardly.  He  must  be  consistent,  and  con- 
sistency is  not  life." 

"  But  inconsistency  is  life,  and  you  are,  therefore,  not 
dead,"  McGlenn  replied.  "If  inconsistency  were  a 
jewel,"  he  added,  "you  would  be  a  cluster  of  brilliants. 
As  it  is,  you  are  an  intellectual  fault-finder  and  a  phys- 
ical hypochondriac." 

"And  you  are  an  intellectual  cartoon  and  a  physical 
mistake." 

"I  won't  talk  to  you.  Even  the  semblance  of  a 
gentleman  commands  my  respect,  but  I  can't  respect 
you.  I  like  truth,  but " 

"  Is  that  the  reason  you  seek  me  ?  " 

"No,  it  is  the  reason  I  avoid  you.  Brutal  prejudice 
never  held  a  truth." 

"Not  when  it  shook  hands  with  you,"  Richmond  re- 
plied. 

McGlenn  got  up,  walked  over  to  the  piano,  came 
back,  looked  at  his  watch,  and  addressing  Richmond, 
asked: 

"  Are  you  going  home,  John  ?  " 

"  Yes,  John.     Suppose  we  walk." 

7 


98  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"Ill  go  you  ;  come  on." 

They  bade  Henry  good  evening  and  together  walked 
off  affectionately. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  our  new  friend  ?  "  Eichmond 
asked  as  they  strolled  along. 

"John,  he  has  suffered.     He  is  a  great  man." 

"I  don't  know  how  he  may  turn  out,"  Eichmond 
said,  "  but  I  rather  like  hint.  Of  course  he  hasn't  fitted 
himself  to  his  position  —  that  is,  he  doesn't  as  yet  feel 
the  force  of  old  Witherspoon's  money.  His  experience 
has  gone  far  toward  making  a  man  of  him,  but  his 
changed  condition  may  after  a  while  throw  his  past 
struggles  into  contempt  and  thereby  corrode  his  manli- 
ness." 

"  I  don't  think  that  he  scraped  up  his  principles  from 
the  Witherspoon  side  of  the  house,"  McGlenn  declared. 
"  If  he  had,  we  should  at  once  have  discovered  in  him 
the  unmistakable  trace  of  the  hog.  Oh,  I  don't  think 
he  will  stay  in  the  club  very  long.  His  tendency  will 
be  to  drift  away.  All  rich  men  are  the  enemies  of 
democracy.  If  they  pretend  that  they  are  not,  they  are 
hypocrites ;  if  they  believe  they  are  not,  it  is  because 
they  haven't  come  to  a  correct  understanding  of  them- 
selves. The  meanest  difference  that  can  exist  between 
men  is  the  difference  that  money  makes.  There  is 
some  compassion  in  an  intellectual  difference,  and  even 
in  a  difference  of  birth  there  is  some  little  atonement  to 
be  expected,  but  a  moneyed  difference  is  stiff  with 
unyielding  brutality." 

In  this  opinion  they  struck  a  sort  of  agreement,  but 
they  soon  fell  apart,  and  they  wrangled  until  they 
reached  a  place  where  their  pathway  split.  They 


THE  COLOSSUS.  99 

halted  for  a  moment;  they  had  been  fierce  in  argument. 
Now  they  were  calm. 

"  Can't  yon  come  over  to-night,  John  ?  "  McGlenn 
asked. 

"  No,  I  can't  possibly  come  to-night,  John.  I've  got 
a  piece  of  work  on  hand  and  must  get  it  off.  I've 
neglected  it  too  long  already." 

But  he  did  go  over  that  night,  and  he  wrangled  with 
McGlenn  until  twelve  o'clock. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

BUTTIXG    AGAINST   A   WALL. 

WHEN  we  have  become  familiar  with  an  environ- 
ment we  sometimes  wonder  why  at  any  time  it 
should  have  appeared  strange  to  us ;  and  it  was  thus 
with  Henry  as  the  months  moved  along.  The  mansion 
in  Prairie  Avenue  was  now  home-like  to  him,  and  the 
contrasts  which  its  luxurious  belongings  were  wont  to 
summon  were  now  less  sharp  and  were  dismissed  with  a 
growing  easiness.  Feeling  the  force  which  position 
urges,  he  worked  without  worry,  and  conscious  of  a 
certain  ability,  he  did  not  question  the  success  of  his 
plans.  But  how  much  of  the  future  did  he  intend  these 
plans  to  cover  ?  He  turned  from  this  troublesome 
uncertainty  and  found  satisfaction  in  that  state  of  mind 
which  permits  one  day  to  forecast  the  day  which  is  to 
follow,  and  on  a  futurity  stretching  further  than  this 
he  resolutely  turned  his  back.  In  his  work  and  in  his 
rest  at  the  Press  Club,  whither  he  went  every  afternoon, 
he  found  his  keenest  pleasure.  He  was  also  fond  of  the 
theator,  not  to  sit  with  a  box  party,  but  to  loiter  with 
Richmond  —  to  enjoy  the  natural,  to  growl  at  the 
tame,  and  to  leave  the  place  whenever  a  tiresome 
dialogue  came  on.  Ellen  sometimes  drew  him  into 
society,  and  on  Sundays  he  usually  went  with  Mrs. 
Witherspoon  to  a  Congregational  church  where  a 
preacher  who  had  taught  his  countenance  the  artifice  of 


THE  COLOSSUS.  101 

a  severe  solemnity  denounced  the  money-chasing  spirit 
of  the  age  at  about  double  the  price  that  he  had 
received  in  the  East. 

The  Witherspoons  had  much  company  and  they  en- 
tertained generously,  though  not  with  a  showy  lavish- 
ness,  for  the  old  man  had  a  quick  eye  for  the  appear- 
ance of  waste.  It  was  noticeable,  too,  that  since  Henry 
came  young  women  who  were  counted  as  Ellen's  friends 
were  more  frequent  with  their  visits.  Witherspoon 
rarely  laughed  at  anything,  but  he  laughed  at  this.  His 
wife,  however,  discovered  in  it  no  cause  for  mirth.  A 
mother  may  plan  the  marriage  of  her  daughter,  for  that 
is  romantic,  but  she  looks  with  an  anxious  eye  upon  the 
marriage  of  her  son,  for  that  is  serious. 

One  evening,  when  Witherspoon  and  Henry  had  gone 
into  the  library  to  smoke,  the  merchant  remarked  :  "  I 
want  to  talk  to  you  about  the  course  of  your  paper." 

"All  right,  sir." 

The  merchant  stood  on  the  hearth-rug.  He  lighted 
his  cigar,  turned  it  round  and  round,  and  then  said  : 

"Brooks  called  my  attention  this  afternoon  to  an 
article  on  working  girls.  Does  it  meet  with  your 
approval  ?" 

"  Why,  yes.  It  was  a  special  assignment,  and  I  gave 
it  out." 

"  Hum  ! "  Witherspoon  grunted.  He  sat  down  in  his 
leather-covered  chair,  crossed  his  legs,  struck  a  match 
on  the  sole  of  his  slipper,  relighted  his  cigar,  which  he 
had  suffered  to  go  out,  and  for  a  time  smoked  in 
silence. 

"  Is  there  anything  wrong  about  it  ?  "  Henry  asked. 

"  I  might  ask  you  if  there  is  anything  right  about 
it,"  Witherspoon  replied.  " '  The  poor  ye  have  with 


102  THE  COLOSSUS. 

yon  always/  was  uttered  by  the  Son  of  God.  •  It  was  not 
only  a  prophecy,  bnt  a  truth  for  all  ages.  There  are 
grades  in  life,  and  who  made  them  ?  Man.  Ah,  but 
who  made  man  ?  God.  Then  who  is  responsible  for  the 
grades  ?  Nature  sets  the  example  of  inequality.  One 
tree  is  higher  than  another."  His  cigar  had  gone  out. 
He  lighted  it  again  and  continued  :  "  "Writers  who  seek 
to  benefit  the  poor  often  injure  them  —  teach  them  a 
dissatisfaction  which  in  its  turn  brings  a  sort  of  reprisal 
on  the  part  of  capital." 

"I  don't  agree  with  you,"  said  Henry. 

"Of  course  not." 

"I  have  cause  to  know  that  you  are  wrong,  sir." 

"You  think  you  have,"  the  merchant  replied. 

"It  is  true,"  Henry  admitted,  "that  we  shall  always 
have  the  poor  with  us." 

"I  thought  so,"  said  Witherspoon. 

"  But  it  is  not  true  that  an  attempt  to  aid  them  is 
harmful.  Their  condition  has  steadily  improved  since 
history  " 

"You  are  a  sentimentalist." 

"I  am  more  than  that,"  said  Henry.     "I  am  a  man." 

"  Hum  !    And  are  you  more  than  that  ?  " 

"  How  could  I  be  more  ?  " 

"Easily  enough.     You  could  be  an  anarchist." 

"  And  is  that  a  step  higher  ?  " 

"Wolves  think  so." 

"But  I  don't." 

"I  hope  not." 

They  sat  in  silence.  The  young  man  was  angry,  but 
he  controlled  himself. 

"  It  is  easy  to  scatter  dangerous  words  in  this  town," 
said  the  merchant.  "And,  sir," — he  broke  off,  rousing 


THE  COLOSSUS.  103 

himself, — "look  at  the  inconsistency,  the  ridiculousness 
of  your  position.  I  employ  more  than  a  thousand  peo- 
ple ;  my  son  says  that  I  oppress  them.  I " 

"  Hold  on  ;  I  didn't  say  that.  I  don't  know  of  any 
injustice  that  you  inflict  upon  your  employes  ;  but  I  do 
know  of  such  wrongs  committed  by  other  men.  But 
you  have  shown  me  that  the  condition  of  those  creatures 
is  hopeless." 

"  What  creatures  ?  " 

"Women  who  work  for  a  living." 

"  And  do  you  know  the  cause  of  their  hopelessness  ?  " 

"Yes  ;  poverty  and  oppression." 

"  Ah,  but  what  is  the  cause  of  their  poverty  ?  " 

"The  greed  of  man." 

"Oh,  no;  the  appetite  of  man  —  whisky.  Nine  out 
of  ten  of  those  so-called  wretched  creatures  can  trace 
their  wretchedness  to  drink." 

"But  it  is  not  their  fault." 

"Oh!" 

Henry  was  stunned.  He  saw  what  a  wall  he  was  but- 
ting against.  "  And  is  this  to  go  on  forever  ? "  he 
asked. 

"  Yes,  forever.    '  The  poor  ye  have  with  you  always/  " 

"But  present  conditions  may  be  overturned." 

"Possibly,  but  other  conditions  just  as  bad,  or  even 
worse,  will  build  on  the  ruins.  That  is  the  history  you 
spoke  of  just  now." 

"But  slavery  was  swept  away — and,  let  me  affirm," 
he  suddenly  broke  off,  "  that  the  condition  of  the  poorer 
people  in  this  town  is  worse  than  the  slavery  that  existed 
in  the  South.  From  that  slavery  the  government 
pointed  toward  freedom,  and  mill-owners  in  the  North 
applauded  —  men,  too,  mind  you,  who  were  the  hardest 


104  THE  COLOSSUS. 

of  masters.  I  can  bring  up  now  the  picture  of  a  green 
lane.  I  can  see  an  old  negro  woman  sweeping  the  door- 
yard  of  her  cabin,  and  she  sings  a  song.  Her  husband  is 
at  work  in  the  field,  and  her  happy  children  are  fishing 
in  the  bayou.  That  is  the  freedom  which  the  govern- 
ment pointed  out  —  the  freedom  which  a  God-inspired 
Lincoln  proclaimed.  But  do  you  hear  any  glad  songs 
among  the  slaves  in  the  North  ?  Let  me  tell  you,  sir, 
that  we  are  confronted  with  a  problem  that  is  more 
serious  than  that  which  was  solved  by  Lincoln." 

Witherspoon  looked  at  him  as  though  he  could  think 
of  no  reply.  At  one  moment  he  seemed  to  be  filling  up 
with  the  gathering  impulses  of  anger;  at  another  he 
appeared  to  be  humiliated. 

"Are  you  my  son  ?"  he  asked. 

"Presumably.  An  impostor  would  yield  to  your 
demands  ;  he  would  win  your  confidence  that  he  might 
steal  your  money." 

"Yes,"  said  the  merchant,  and  he  sat  in  silence. 

Henry  was  the  first  to  speak.  "If  you  were  poor, 
and  with  the  same  intelligence  you  have  now,  what 
would  you  advise  the  poor  man  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  should  advise  him  to  do  as  I  did  when  I  was  poor 
and  as  I  do  now — work.  Now,  let  me  tell  you  some- 
thing :  Last  year  your  mother  and  I  gave  away  a  great 
deal  of  money — we  do  so  every  year.  Does  that  look 
as  if  I  am  grinding  the  poor  ?  You  have  hurt  me." 

"  I  am  sorry.  But  if  I  have  Imrt  you  with  a  truth, 
it  should  make  you  think." 

Witherspoon  looked  at  him,  and  this  time  it  was 
with  resentment.  "  What !  you  talk  about  making  me 
think  ?  Young  man,  you  don't  know  what  it  is  to 
think.  You  are  confounded  with  the  difference 


THE  COLOSSUS.  105 

between  sentimentalism  and  thought.  Yon  go  ahead 
and  print  your  newspaper  and  don't  worry  about  the 
workingwoman.  Her  class  will  be  larger  and  worse  off, 
probably,  a  hundred  years  after  you  are  dead." 

"  Yes,  but  before  that  time  her  class  may  rise  up  and 
sweep  everything  before  it.  A  democracy  can't  long 
permit  a  few  men  to  hold  all  the  wealth.  But  there's 
no  good  to  come  from  a  discussion  with  you." 

"You  are  right,"  said  Witherspoon,  "but  hold  on  a 
moment.  Don't  go  away  believing  that  I  have  no 
sympathy  for  the  poor.  I  have,  but  I  haven't  time  to 
worry  with  it.  There  is  no  reason  why  any  man  should 
be  poor  in  this  country. " 

Henry  thought  of  a  hundred  things  to  say,  but 
said  nothing.  He  knew  that  it  was  useless ;  he  knew 
that  this  man's  strength  had  blinded  him  to  the  weak- 
ness of  other  men,  and  he  felt  that  American  aristoc- 
racy was  the  most  grinding  of  all  aristocracies,  for  the 
reason  that  a  man's  failure  to  reach  its  grade  was  attrib- 
utable to  himself  alone. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A.   DIFFERENT  HANDWRITING. 

HENRY  bade  Witherspoon  good  night  and  went  to 
his  room.  A  fire  was  burning  in  the  grate.  At 
the  window  there  was  a  rattle  of  sleet.  He  lighted  his 
old  briar-root  pipe  and  sat  down.  He  had,  as  usual, 
ceased  to  argue  with  himself ;  he  simply  mused.  He 
acknowledged  his  weakness,  and  sought  a  counteracting 
strength,  but  found  none.  But  why  should  he,  fight 
against  good  fortune  ?  It  was  not  his  fault  that  cer- 
tain conditions  existed.  Why  not  starve  the  past  and 
feed  the  present  ?  But  he  had  begun  to  argue,  and  he 
shook  himself  as  though  he  would  be  freed  from  some- 
thing that  had  taken  hold  of  him,  and  he  got  up  and 
stood  at  the  window.  How  raw  the  night !  And  as 
he  stood  there,  he  fancied  that  the  darkness  and  the 
sleet  of  his  boyhood  were  trying  to  force  their  way  into 
the  warmth  and  the  light  of  his  new  inheritance.  He 
turned  suddenly  about,  and  bowing  with  mock  polite- 
ness, said  to  himself  :  "  You  are  a  fool. "  He  lighted 
his  pipe  afresh,  and  sat  down  to  work.  Some  one 
tapped  at  the  door.  Was  it  Witherspoon  come  to  de- 
liver another  argument,  and  to  decide  again  in  his  own 
favor  ?  No,  it  was  Ellen.  She  had  been  at  the  theater. 

"You  bring  roses  out  of  the  storm,"  said  Henry,  in 
allusion  to  the  color  of  her  cheeks. 

"  But  I  don't  bring  flattery.  Gracious  !  I  am  chilled 
through. "  She  took  off  her  gloves  and  held  her  hands 

106 


THE  COLOSSUS.  107 

over  the  grate.  "  Everybody's  gone  to  bed,  and  I  didn't 
know  but  you  might  be  here,  scribbling.  Goodness, 
what's  that  you've  been  smoking  ?  " 

"A  pipe." 

She  turned  from  the  fire  and  shrugged  her  shoulders. 
"  Couldn't  you  get  a  cigar  ?  Why  do  you  smoke  that 
awful  thing  ?  " 

"  It  is  an  altar  of  the  past,  and  on  it  I  burn  the  mem- 
ories of  its  day,"  he  answered,  smiling. 

"  Well,  I  think  I  would  get  a  new  altar  and  burn 
incense  for  the  present !  Oh,  but  I've  had  the  stupidest 
evening." 

"  Wasn't  the  play  good  ?  " 

"  No,  it  was  talk,  talk,  with  a  stress  laid  on  nothing. 
And  then  my  escort  wasn't  particularly  entertaining." 

"Who?"" 

"  Oh,  a  Mr.  Somebody.  What  have  you  been  doing 
all  the  evening  ?  " 

"  Something  that  I  found  to  be  worse  than  useless. 
Father  and  I  have  been  locking  horns  over  the  —  not 
exactly  the  labor  question,  but  over  the  wretchedness  of 
workingwomen. " 

"  What  do  you  know  about  the  wretchedness  of  work- 
ingwomen ?  "  she  asked. 

"  What  do  I  know  about  it  ?  What  can  I  help  know- 
ing about  it  ?  How  can  I  shut  my  eyes  against  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  why  they  are  so  very  wretched.  They 
get  pay,  I'm  sure.  Somebody  has  to  work  ;  somebody 
has  to  be  poor.  What  are  you  writing  ?  " 

"The  necessary  rot  of  an  editorial  page,"  he 
answered . 

"Why,  how  your  handwriting  has  changed,'*  ahe 
said,  leaning  over  the  table. 


108  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"How  so?" 

"  Why,  this  is  so  different  from  the  letters  yon  wrote 
before  you  came  home." 

He  did  not  reply  immediately ;  he  was  thinking. 
"Pens  in  that  country  cut  queer  capers,"  he  said. 
"  "Where  are  those  letters,  anyway  ?  " 

"Mother  has  put  them  away  somewhere." 

"I  should  like  to  see  them  again." 

"Why?" 

"Oh,  on  account  of  the  memories  they  hold.  Get 
them  for  me,  and  I  will  give  you  a  description  of  my 
surroundings  at  the  time  I  wrote  them." 

"  Why,  what  a  funny  fellow  you  are !  Can't  you  give 
me  a  description  anyway  ?" 

"No,  not  a  good  one." 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  wake  mother,  and  I  don't  know 
that  I  can  find  the  letters." 

"Go  and  see." 

"  Oh,  you  are  so  headstrong." 

She  went  out,  and  he  walked  up  and  down  the  room, 
and  then  stood  again  at  the  window.  Ellen  returned. 

"  Here  they  are. " 

"  Did  you  wake  mother  ?  " 

"No,  but  I  committed  burglary.  I  found  the  key 
and  unlocked  her  trunk,  and  all  to  please  you." 

"Good,  and  for  the  first  time  burglary  shall  be  repaid 
with  gratitude." 

He  took  the  letters  and  looked  at  the  sprawling  char- 
acters drawn  by  the  hand  of  his  friend.  "When  I 
copied  this  confession,"  said  he,  "I  was  heavy  of  heart. 
I  was  sitting  in  a  small  room,  looking  far  down  into  a 
valley  where  nature  seemed  to  keep  her  darkness  stored, 


THE  COLOSSUS.  109 

and  from  another  window,  in  the  east,  I  could  see  a 
mountain  where  she  made  her  light." 

"  Go  on/'  she  said,  leaning  with  her  elbows  on  the 
table. 

He  began  to  walk  across  the  room,  from  the  door  to 
the  grate,  and  to  talk  as  one  delivering  a  set  oration. 
"  And  I  had  just  finished  my  work  when  a  most  annoy- 
ing monkey,  owned  by  the  landlord,  jumped  through 
the  window.  I  was  so  startled  that  I  threw  the  folded 
papers  at  him  " 

•'  What  have  you  done  !  "  she  cried. 

He  had  thrown  the  letters  into  the  fire.  He  sprang 
forward,  and  snatching  them,  threw  them  on  the  hearth 
and  stamped  out  the  blaze. 

"Oh,  I  do  wish  you,  hadn't  done  that,"  she  said, 
hoarse  with  alarm.  "  Mother  reads  these  letters  every 
clay,  and  —  oh,  I  do  wish  you  hadn't  done  it !  They 
are  all  scorched  —  ruined,  and  I  wouldn't  have  her 
know  that  I  took  them  out  of  her  trunk  for  anything. 
AVhat  shall  we  do  about  it  ?  Oh,  I  know  you  didn't 
mean  to  do  it."  He  had  looked  appealingly  at  her. 
"I  wish  I  hadn't  got  them." 

"  It  is  only  the  copy  of  the  confession  that  is  badly 
burned.  The  original  is  here  on  the  table,"  he  said. 

"  I  know,  but  what  good  will  that  do  ?  The  letters 
are  so  scorched  that  it  won't  do  to  return  them." 

"But  I  can  copy  them,"  he  replied. 

"  Oh,  you  genius ! "  she  exclaimed,  clapping  her  hands. 

"Thank  you,"  he  said,  bowing.  Then  he  added: 
"  Let  me  see  —  this  paper  won't  do.  Where  can  we  get 
some  fool's-cap  ?  " 

"  There  must  be  some  in  the  library,"  she  answered. 
"I'll  slip  down  and  see." 


UO  THE  COLOSSUS. 

She  hastened  down-stairs  and  soon  returned  with  the 
paper.  "  I  feel  like  a  burglar,"  she  said. 

"And  I  am  a  forger,"  he  replied. 

"  Won't  take  you  long,  will  it  ?  " 

"No." 

The  work  was  soon  completed.  The  scorched  letters 
were  thrown  into  the  fire.  "  She  will  never  know  the 
difference,"  said  Ellen.  "It  is  a  sin  to  deceive  her,  but 
then,  following  the  burglary,  deception  is  a  kindness ; 
and  there  can't  be  so  very  much  wickedness  in  a  sin 
that  keeps  one  from  being  unhappy." 

"Or  keeps  one  from  being  discovered,"  he  suggested. 
6he  laughed,  not  mirthfully,  but  with  an  attempt  at 
self -consolation.  "This  is  our  first  secret,"  she  said,  as 
she  opened  the  door. 

"And  I  think  you  will  keep  it,"  he  replied,  smiling 
at  her. 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  and  rejoined: 
"  Indeed,  fellow-criminal !  And  if  you  didn't  smoke 
that  horrid  pipe,  what  a  lovable  convict  you  would 
make." 

When  she  was  gone  he  stood  again  at  the  window. 
The  night  was  breathing  hard.  He  spoke  to  himself 
with  mock  concern  :  "  Two  hours  ago  you  were  simply 
a  fool,  but  now  you  are  a  scoundrel." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

TOLD   HIM  HER  STOET. 

WHEN  he  awoke  the  next  morning  his  blood  seemed 
to  be  clogged  somewhere  far  from  the  seat  of 
thought,  and  then  it  came  with  a  leap  that  brought 
back  the  night  before.  "But  I  won't  argue  with  you," 
he  said,  turning  over.  "Argue,"  he  repeated.  "Why, 
it's  past  argument  now.  I  will  simply  do  the  best  I  can 
and  let  the  worst  take  care  of  itself.  But  I  do  despise 
a  vacillator,  and  I  am  one.  The  old  man  may  be  right. 
Nature  admires  strength  and  never  pities  the  weak. 
And  what  am  I  to  do  if  I'm  not  to  carry  out  my  part  of 
this  programme  ?  The  trial  is  over,"  he  said  as  he  got 
up.  "I  am  Henry  Witherspoon." 

He  was  busy  in  his  room  at  the  office  when  Brooks 
entered. 

"Well,  hard  at  it,  I  see." 

"  Yes.  Sit  down ;  I'll  be  through  with  this  in  a 
moment." 

He  sat  himself  back  from  the  desk,  and  Brooks 
asked,  "  Can't  you  go  out  to  lunch  with  me  ?  " 

"Isn't  time  yet." 

"Hardly,  that's  so,"  Brooks  admitted,  looking  at  his 
watch.  "  I  happened  to  have  business  in  this  neighbor- 
hood and  thought  I'd  drop  in.  Say,"  he  added  in  a 
lower  tone,  and  nodding  his  head  toward  the  door  of 
the  adjoining  room,  "  who  is  she  ?  " 


112  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"The  literary  reviewer." 

"  She's  a  stunner.     What's  her  name  ?  " 

"Miss  Drury." 

"You  might  introduce  me." 

"She's  busy." 

"Probably  she'd  go  to  lunch  with  us." 

"She  refuses  to  go  out  with  any  one." 

"  Hasn't  been  here  long,  eh  ?  "  That  was  the  floor- 
walker's idea.  "  Well,  I  must  get  back,  if  you  can't  go 
with  me.  So  long." 

Henry  took  a  book  into  Miss  Drury's  room.  "  Here's 
something  that  was  sent  to  me  personally,"  said  he, 
"but  treat  it  as  you  think  it  deserves." 

She  looked  up  with  a  suggestion  of  a  smile.  "Are 
you  willing  to  trust  the  reputation  of  your  friends  to 
me  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  am  at  least  willing  to  let  you  take  charge  of  their 
vanity." 

"  Oh,  am  I  so  good  a  keeper  of  vanity  ?  " 

"No,  you  are  so  gentle  an  exterminator  of  it." 

"Thank  you,"  she  said,  laughing.  Her  hair  seemed 
ready  to  break  from  its  fastenings,  and  she  gave  it 
those  deft  touches  of  security  which  are  mysterious  to 
man,  but  which  a  little  girl  practices  on  a  doll. 

"You  have  wonderful  hair,"  he  said. 

And  she  answered  :  "I'm  going  to  cut  it  off." 

This  is  woman's  almost  invariable  reply  to  such  a 
compliment.  Henry  knew  that  she  would  say  it,  and 
she  knew  that  she  would  not  cut  it  off,  and  they  both 
laughed. 

"  How  did  you  happen  to  get  into  newspaper  work  ?  " 
he  asked. 

Her  face  became  serious.     "I  had  to  do  something," 


THE  COLOSSUS.  113 

she  answered,  "  and  I  couldn't  do  anything  else.  My 
mother  was  an  invalid  for  ten  years,  and  I  nursed  her, 
read  to  her  day  and  night.  Sometimes  in  the  winter 
she  couldn't  sleep,  and  I  would  get  up  and  amuse  her  by 
writing  reviews  of  the  books  I  had  read.  It  was  only 
play,  but  after  she  was  dead  I  thought  that  I  might 
make  it  earnest." 

"  And  your  father  died  when  you  were  very  young,  I 
suppose." 

She  looked  away,  and  with  both  hands  she  began  to 
touch  her  hair  again.  "Yes,"  she  said. 

"Tell  me  about  him." 

"Why  about  him?" 

"  I  don't  know.  Because  you  have  told  me  about  your 
mother,  I  suppose." 

"  And  are  you  so  much  interested  in  me  ?  "  she  asked, 
looking  earnestly  at  him. 

"Yes." 

"  I  ought  not  to  tell  you,  but  I  will.  "We  lived  in  the 

country.  My  father  was  " She  looked  about  her 

and  then  at  him.  "  My  father  was  a  drunkard,  but  my 
mother  loved  him  devotedly.  One  day  he  went  to  the 
village,  several  miles  away,  and  at  evening  he  didn't 
come  home,  and  my  mother  knew  the  cause.  It  was  a 
cold,  snowy  night.  Mother  stood  at  the  gate,  holding  a 
lantern.  She  wouldn't  let  me  stand  there  with  her,  it  was 
so  cold,  but  I  was  on  my  knees  in  a  chair  at  the  win- 
dow, and  I  could  see  her.  She  stood  there  so  long,  and 
it  seemed  so  cruel  that  I  should  be  in  a  warm  room 
while  she  was  out  in  the  cold,  that  I  slipped  out  and 
closed  the  door  softly  after  me.  I  stood  a  short  dis- 
tance behind  her,  and  I  had  not  been  standing  there 
long  when  a  horse,  covered  with  snow,  came  stumbling 


114  THE  COLOSSUS. 

out  of  the  darkness.  Mother  called  me,  and  I  ran  to 
her.  We  went  down  the  road,  holding  the  lantern  first 
one  side,  then  the  other,  that  we  might  see  into  the  cor- 
ners of  the  fences.  We  found  him  lying  dead  in  the 
road,  covered  with  snow.  Mother  was  never  well  after 
that  night  —  but  really  I  am  neglecting  my  work." 

He  returned  to  his  desk.  The  proof-sheets  of  a  lead- 
ing article  were  brought  to  him,  but  he  sat  gazing  at 
naught  that  he  could  see. 

"  Are  you  done  with  those  proofs  ?  "  some  one  asked. 

"Take  them  away,"  he  said,  without  looking  up.  He 
sat  for  a  long  time,  musing,  and  then  he  shook  himself, 
a  habit  which  he  had  lately  formed  in  trying  to  free 
himself  from  meditations  that  sought  to  possess  him. 

He  went  out  to  luncheon,  and  just  as  he  was  going 
into  a  restaurant  some  one  spoke  to  him.  It  was  old 
man  Colton. 

"My  dear  Mr.  Witherspoon,"  said  the  old  man, 
"  come  and  have  a  bite  to  eat  with  me.  Ah,  come  on, 
now  ;  no  excuse.  Let's  go  this  way.  I  know  of  a 
place  that  will  just  suit  you.  This  way.  I'm  no  hand 
for  clubs —  they  bore  me ;  they  are  newfangled." 

The  old  man  conducted  him  into  a  basement  restau- 
rant not  noticeable  for  cleanliness,  but  strong  with  a 
smell  of  mutton. 

"Now,  suppose  we  try  a  little  broth-,"  said  the  old 
man,  when  they  had  sat  down.  "  Two  bowls  of  mutton 
broth,"  he  added,  speaking  to  the  waiter.  "Ah,"  he 
went  on,  "you  may  talk  about  your  dishes,  but  at  noon- 
time there  is  nothing  that  can  touch  broth.  And 
besides,"  he  added,  in  a  whisper,  "there's  no  robbery  in 
broth.  These  restaurant  fellows  are  skinners  of  the 
worst  order.  I'll  tell  you,  my  dear  Mr. 


THE  COLOSSUS.  115 

everything  teaches  us  to  practice  economy.  We  must 
do  it ;  it's  the  saving  clanse  of  life.  Now,  what  could 
be  better  than  this  ?  Go  back  to  work,  and  your  head's 
clear.  My  dear  Mr.  Witherspoon,  if  I  had  been  a  spend- 
thrift, I  should  not  only  be  a  pauper  —  I  should  have 
been  dead  long  ago." 

He  continued  to  talk  on  the  virtues  of  economy. 
"  Won't  you  have  some  more  broth  ?  " 

"No,  thank  you." 

"  Won't  you  have  something  else  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a 
tone  that  implied  extreme  fear. 

"No,  I'm  not  hungry  to-day." 

This  announcement  appeared  greatly  to  relieve  the 
old  man.  "Oh,  you'll  succeed  in  life,  my  dear  young 
man  ;  but  really  you  ought  to  come  into  the  store  with 
us.  It  would  do  your  father  so  much  good  ;  he  would 
feel  that  he  has  a  sure  hold  on  the  future,  you  under- 
stand. You  don't  know  what  a  comfort  Brooks  is  to 
me.  Why,  if  my  daughter  had  married  a  man  in  any 
other  line,  I  —  well,  it  would  have  been  a  great  disap- 
pointment. Are  you  going  back  to  work  now  ?  " 

"No;  to  the  Press  Club." 

"  Why  don't  you  come  to  see  us  of tener  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I'm  there  often  enough,  I  should  think  —  two 
or  three  times  a  week."  • 

"  Yes,  of  course,  but  we  are  all  so  anxious  that  you 
should  become  interested  in  our  work.  Don't  dis- 
courage yourself  with  the  belief  that  a  man  brought  up 
in  the  South  is  not  a  good  business  man.  I  am  from  the 
South,  my  dear  Mr.  Witherspoon." 

They  had  reached  the  sidewalk,  and  the  roar  from 
the  street  impelled  the  old  man  to  force  his  squeaky 
voice  into  a  split  shout, 


116  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"  Southern  man  " He  was  bumped  off  by  the 

passing  throng,  but  he  got  back  again  and  shouted  : 
"  Southern  man  has  just  as  good  commercial  ability  as 
anybody.  Well,  I  must  leave  you  here." 


CHAPTEK  XVI. 

AN  AKOUSER   OF  THE  SLEEPY. 

IN  the  Press  Club  Henry  found  Mr.  Flummers 
haranguing  a  party  of  men  who  sat  about  the  round 
table.  He  stood  that  he  might  have  room  in  which  to 
scallop  his  gestures,  and  he  had  reached  a  climax  just 
as  Henry  joined  the  circle.  He  waited  until  all  inter- 
ruptions had  ceased  and  then  continued  :  "Milwaukee 
was  asleep,  and  I  was  sent  up  there  to  arouse  it.  But 
I  shook  it  too  hard  ;  I  hadn't  correctly  measured  my 
own  strength.  The  old-timers  said,  '  Let  us  doze,' 
but  I  commanded,  '  Wake  up  here  now,  and  get  a  move 
on  you,'  and  they  had  to  wake  up.  But  they  formu- 
lated a  conspiracy  against  me,  and  I  was  removed." 

"  How  were  you  removed,  Mr.  Flummers  ?  "  McGlenn 
asked. 

"  Oh,  a  petition,  signed  by  a  thousand  sleepy  citizens, 
was  sent  down  here  to  my  managing  editor,  and  I  was 
requested  to  come  away.  Thus  was  my  Milwaukee  career 
ended,  but  it  ended  in  a  blaze  that  dazzled  the  eyes  of 
the  old-timers."  He  cut  a  scallop.  " But  papa  was  not 
long  idle.  The  solid  South  wanted  him.  They  knew 
that  papa  was  the  man  to  quiet  a  disturbance  or  compel 
a  drowsy  municipality  to  get  up  and  rub  its  eyes.  Well, 
I  went  to  Memphis.  What  was  the  cause  of  the  great 
excitement  that  followed  ?  "  He  tapped  his  forehead. 
"  Papa's  nut.  But  again  had  he  underestimated  him- 


118  THE  COLOSSUS. 

self ;  again  was  he  too  strong  for  the  occasion.  He 
tossed  up  the  community  in  his  little  blanket,  and  while 
it  was  still  in  the  air,  papa  skipped,  and  the  railroad 
train  didn't  go  any  too  fast  for  him." 

"  And  was  that  the  time  you  went  over  into  Arkansas 
and  murdered  a  man  ?  "  Richmond  asked. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  you  are  mixing  ancient  history  with  recent 
events.  But  say,  John,  you  haven't  bought  anything 
to-day." 

"  Why,  you  paunch-bulging  liar,  I  bought  you  a  drink 
not  more  than  ten  minutes  ago." 

"But  you  owed  me  that  one." 

"Get  out,  you  nerveless  beef  !  Under  the  old  law  for 
debt  I  could  put  you  in  prison  for  life." 

"Oh,  no." 

"  Do  you  really  need  a  drink,  Mr.  Flnmmers  ? " 
McGlenn  asked. 

"Yes." 

"And  you  don't  think  that  there  is  any  mistake 
about  it  ?  " 

«No." 

"  Well,  then,  as  one  who  has  been  compelled  to  love 
yon,  I  will  buy  you  a  drink." 

"  Good  stuff.  Say,  Whit,  touch  the  bell  over  there, 
will  you  ?  " 

"  Touch  it  yourself,  you  lout ! " 

With  a  profane  avowal  that  he  had  never  struck  so 
lazy  a  party,  Flummers  rang  the  bell,  and  when  the 
boy  appeared,  he  called  with  hearty  hospitality  :  "  See 
what  the  gentlemen  will  have." 

"Would  you  like  something  more  ?"  Henry  asked  of 
Flummers,  when  the  drinks  had  been  served. 


THE  COLOSSUS.  119 

rt  Oh,  I've  just  had  one.  But  wait  a  minute.  Say,  boy, 
bring  me  a  cigar." 

When  the  cigar  was  brought,  Flummers  said,  "  That's 
the  stuff  ! "  and  a  moment  later  he  broke  out  with, 
"  Say,  Witherspoon,  why  don't  you  kill  the  geyser  that 
does  the  county  building  for  your  paper  ?  " 

"Why  so  ?" 

"  Oh,  he  flashes  his  star  and  calls  himself  a  journalist. 
What  time  is  it  ?  I  must  hustle  ;  can't  stay  here  and 
throw  away  time  on  you  fellows.  Say,  John  " 

Richmond  shut  him  off  with  :  "  Don't  call  me  John. 
A  man  —  I'll  say  man  out  of  courtesy  to  your  outward 
form  —  a  man  that  hasn't  sense  enough  to  lift  a  bass 
into  a  boat  is  not  to  be  permitted  such  a  familiarity. 
Out  in  a  boat  with  him  last  summer  and  caught  a  big 
bass,"  Richmond  explained  to  the  company,  "and 
brought  it  up  to  the  side  of  the  boat  and  told  Flummers 
to  lift  it  in,  not  thinking  at  the  time  that  he  hadn't 
sense  enough,  and  he  grabbed  hold  of  the  line  and  let 
the  fish  get  away.  It  made  me  sick,  and  I  had  a  strong 
fight  with  myself  to  keep  from  drowning  him." 

Flummers  tapped  his  forehead.  "Papa's  nut  says, 
'  Keep  your  hand  out  of  a  fish's  mouth.'  Oh,  I  don't 
want  to  go  fishing  with  you  again.  No  fun  for  me  to 
pull  a  boat  and  see  a  man  thrash  the  water.  Say,  did 
I  take  anything  on  you  just  now  ?  "  he  suddenly  broke 
off,  addressing  Henry. 

"Yes,  but  you  can  have  something  else." 

"  Well,  not  now.  I'll  hold  it  in  reserve.  In  this  life 
it  is  well  to  have  reserve  forces  stationed  here  and 
there.  Who's  got  a  car-ticket  ?  I've  got  to  go  over  on 
the  West  Side.  What,  are  you  all  broke  ?  What  sort 
of  a  poverty-stricken  gang  have  I  struck  ?  Well,  I've 


120  THE  COLOSSUS. 

given  you  as  much  of  my  valuable  time  as  I  can  spare." 

"I  suppose  you  are  getting  used  to  this  town/'  said 
Mortimer,  when  Flummers'was  gone. 

"Yes,  I  am  gradually  making  myself  feel  at  home," 
Henry  answered. 

"  You  find  the  weather  disagreeable,  of  course.  We 
do,  I  know." 

"I  think  that  Chicago  is  great  in  spite  of  its  climate," 
said  Henry. 

"  If  great  at  all,  it  is  great  in  spite  of  a  great  many 
absences,"  McGlenn  replied  ;  "  and  in  these  absences  it  is 
mean  and  contemptible.  To  money  it  gives  worship  ; 
to  the  song  and  dance  man  it  pays  admiring  attention, 
but  to  the  writer  it  gives  neglect  —  the  campaign  of 
silence." 

Eichmond  put  his  hand  to  his  mouth  and  threw  his 
head  back.  "  The  trouble  with  you,  John  " 

"There's  no  trouble  with  me." 

"  Yes,  there  is,  and  it  is  the  trouble  that  comes  to  all 
men  who  form  an  estimate  without  having  first  taken 
the  trouble  to  think." 

"Gentlemen,"  said  McGlenn,  "I  wish  to  call  your 
attention  to  that  remark.  John  Richmond  advising 
people  to  think  before  they  form  their  estimates.  John, 
you  are  the  last  man  to  think  before  you  form  an 
estimate.  Within  a  minute  after  you  meet  a  man  you 
are  prepared  to  give  your  estimate  of  his  character; 
youll  give  a  half-hour's  opinion  on  a  minute's  acquaint- 
ance." 

"  Some  people  can't  form  an  opinion  of  a  man  after  a 
year's  acquaintance  with  him,  but  I  can.  I  go  by  a 
certain  instinct,  and  when  the  wrong  sort  of  man  rnbs 
up  against  me  I  know  it.  I  don't  need  to  wait  until  he 


THE  COLOSSUS.  121 

has  worked  me  before  I  find  out  that  he  is  an  impostor. 
But,  as  I  was  going  to  say,  the  trouble  with  you  is  that 
you  forget  the  difference  that  exists  between  new  and 
old  cities.  A  new  community  worships  material  things  ; 
and  if  it  pays  tribute  to  an  idea,  it  must  be  that  idea 
which  appeals  quickest  to  the  eye  —  to  the  commoner 
senses.  And  in  this  Chicago  is  no  worse  than  other 
raw  cities.  Fifty  years  from  now  " 

"Who  wants  to  live  fifty  years  in  this  miserable 
world  ?  "  McGlenn  broke  in.  "  There  is  but  one  com- 
munity in  which  the  writer  is  at  ease,  and  that  is  the 
community  of  death.  It  is  populous;  it  is  crowded 
with  writers,  but  it  holds  an  easy  place  for  every  one. 
The  silence  of  that  community  frightens  the  rich  but 
its  democracy  pleases  the  poor." 

"  I  suppose,  then,  that  you  want  to  die. " 

"I  do." 

"  But  yon  didn't  want  to  die  yesterday  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  was  the  very  time  when  I  should  have  died 
—  I  had  just  eaten  a  good  dinner.  You  don't  know 
how  to  eat,  John.  You  stuff  yourself,  John.  Yes, 
you  stuff  yourself  and  think  that  you  have  dined.  The 
reason  is  that  you  have  never  taken  the  trouble  to 
become  civilized.  It's  my  misfortune  to  have  friends 
who  can't  eat.  But  some  of  my  friends  can  eat,  and 
they  are  therefore  great  men.  Tod  Cowles  strikes  a 
new  dish  at  a  house  on  the  North  Side  and  softens  his 
voice  and  says,  'Ah  hah.'  He  is  a  great  man,  for  he 
knows  that  he  has  discovered  an  additional  pleasure  to  off- 
set another  trouble  of  this  infamous  life ;  and  Colonel 
Norton  is  a  great  man  —  he  knows  how  to  eat;  but 
you,  John,  are  an  outcast  from  the  table,  and  therefore 
civilization  cannot  reach  you.  Civilization  comes  to 


122  THE  COLOSSUS. 

the  feast  and  asks,  '  "Where  is  John  Richmond,  whom  I 
heard  some  of  you  say  something  about  ? '  and  we 
reply,  'He  holds  us  in  contempt/  and  Civilization 
pronounces  these  solemn  words  :  '  He  who  holds  ye  in 
contempt,  the  same  will  I  banish.' ' 

"But,"  rejoined  Richmond,  "civilization  teaches  one 
of  two  things  —  to  think  or  to  become  a  glutton. 
Somehow  I  was  kept  away  from  the  feast  and  had  to 
accept  the  other  teaching.  I  don't  go  about  deifying 
my  stomach  and  making  an  apostle  of  the  palate  of  my 
mouth.  When  I  eat " 

"  But  you  don't  eat ;  you  stuff.  I  have  sat  down  to  a 
table  with  you,  and  after  giving  your  order  you  would 
fill  yourself  so  full  of  bread  and  pickles  or  anything 
within  reach  that  you  couldn't  eat  anything  when  the 
order  was  brought. " 

"That  was  abstraction  of  thought  instead  of  hunger," 
Richmond  replied. 

"  No,  it  was  the  presence  of  gluttony.  Can  you  eat, 
Mr.  Witherspoon  ?  " 

"  I  fear  that  I  must  confess  a  lack  of  higher  civiliza- 
tion. I  am  not  well  schooled  in  anything,  and  I  sup- 
pose that  you  must  class  me  with  Richmond  —  as  a 
barbarian.  I  lack  " 

"Art,"  McGlenn  suggested.  "But  for  you  there  is  a 
chance.  John  Richmond  is  hopelessly  gone." 

"I  sometimes  feed  my  dogs  on  stewed  tripe,"  said 
Whittlesy,  "  and  the  good  that  it  does  them  teaches  me 
that  man  is  to  be  judged  largely  by  what  he  eats." 

"There  is  absolutely  no  use  for  all  this  bloody  rot," 
Mortimer  declared.  "Eating  is  essential,  of  course, 
but  I  don't  see  how  men  can  talk  for  an  hour  on  the 
subject,  and  talk  foolishly,  at  that." 


THE  COLOSSUS.  123 

"If  eating  is  essential,"  Richmond  replied,  "it  is  a 
wonder  that  you  don't  kick  against  it." 

"Ah,  but  isn't  it  a  good  thing  that  I  don't  kick 
against  non-essentials  ?  Wouldn't  I  be  obliged  to  kick 
against  this  assemblage  and  its  beastly  rot  ?  " 

Mortimer  sometimes  emphasized  his  walk  with  a 
peculiar  springiness  of  step,  and  with  this  emphasis  ho 
walked  off,  biting  the  stem  of  his  pipe. 

"I  thought  that  by  this  time  you  would  begin  to 
show  a  weariness  of  the  Press  Club,"  McGlenn  said  to 
Henry. 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  should  have  thought  that.  I 
said  at  first  that  I  was  one  of  you." 

"  Yes,  but  I  didn't  know  but  by  this  time  you  might 
have  discovered  your  mistake." 

"I  made  no  mistake,  and  therefore  could  discover 
none.  Let  me  tell  you  that  between  George  Wither- 
spoon's  class  and  me  there  is  but  little  affinity.  You 
may  call  me  a  crank,  and  perhaps  I  am,  but  I  was  poor 
so  long  that  I  felt  a  sort  of  pride  in  the  fight  I  was 
compelled  to  make.  Poverty  has  its  arrogance,  and 
foppery  is  sometimes  found  in  rags.  I  don't  mind  tell- 
ing you  that  I  have  been  strongly  urged  to  take  what  is 
called  my  place  in  the  world  ;  but  that  place  is  so  dis- 
tasteful to  me  that  I  look  on  it  with  a  shudder.  I 
despise  barter  —  I  am  compelled  to  buy,  but  I  am  not 
forced  to  sell.  I  am  not  a  sentimentalist  —  if  I  were  I 
should  attempt  to  write  poetry.  I  am  not  a  philosopher 
—  if  I  were  I  shouldn't  attempt  to  run  a  newspaper.  I 
am  simply  an  ordinary  man  who  has  passed  through  an 
extraordinary  school.  And  what  I  think  are  virtues 
may  be  errors." 

McGlenn  replied :     "  John  is  yonr  friend.      John 


124  THE  COLOSSUS. 

thinks  that  you  are  a  strong  man  —  I  don't  know  yet, 
but  I  do  know  that  you  please  me  when  you  are  silent 
and  that  you  don't  displease  me  when  you  talk.  You 
are  strong  enough  to  say,  '  I  don't  know,'  and  a  con- 
fession of  ignorance  is  a  step  toward  wisdom.  Ask 
John  a  question  to-day  and  he  may  say,  'I  don't  know/ 
but  to-morrow  he  does  know — he  has  spent  anight 
with  it.  You  are  a  remarkable  man,  Mr.  Witherspoon," 
he  added  after  a  moment's  reflection,  "a  very  remark- 
able man.  Your  life  up  to  a  short  time  ago,  you  say, 
was  a  struggle ;  your  uncle  was  a  poor  man.  Suddenly 
you  became  the  son  of  a  millionaire.  A  weak  nature 
would  straightway  have  assumed  the  airs  of  a  rich  man  : 
you  remained  a  democrat.  It  was  so  remarkable  that  1 
thought  the  decision  might  react  as  an  error,  and  there- 
fore I  asked  if  you  had  not  begun  to  grow  weary  of  this 
democracy,  the  Press  Club." 

McGlenn  smiled,  and  his  smile  had  two  meanings, 
one  for  his  friends  and  another  for  his  enemies.  His 
friends  saw  a  thoughtful  countenance  illumined  by  an 
intellectual  light ;  his  enemies  recognized  a  sarcasm  that 
had  escaped  from  a  sly  and  revengeful  spirit.  But 
Henry  was  his  friend. 

"John,"  said  Richmond,  "you  think" 

McGlenn  turned  out  his  thumb  and  began  to  motion 
with  his  fist.  "I  won't  submit  to  the  narrow  die  turn 
of  a  man  who  presumes  to  tell  me  what  I  think." 

"But  if  nobody  were  to  tell  you,  how  would  you  find 
out  what  you  think  ?  Oh,"  he  added,  "I  admit  that 
it  was  presumption  on  my  part.  I  was  presuming  that 
you  think." 

"I  do  think,  and  if  some  one  must  tell  me  wind  1 
think,  let  him  be  a  thinking  man." 


THE  COLOSSUS.  125 

"  John,  yon  cry  out  for  thought,  and  are  the  first  to 
strike  at  it  with  your  dogmatism.  You  don't  think  — 
you  dogmatize." 

Me  Glenn  turned  to  Henry.  "  I  had  two  delightful 
days  last  week.  John  Richmond  was  out  of  town. " 

"Yes,"  said  Ricamond,  putting  his  feet  on  a  chair. 
"  Falsehood  gallops  in  riotous  pleasure  when  Truth  is 
absent.  Hold  on  !  I  can  stand  one  wrinkle  between 
your  eyes,  but  I  am  afraid  of  two." 

"A  man  of  many  accomplishments,  but  wholly  lack- 
ing in  humor,"  said  McGlenn,  seeming  to  study  Rich- 
mond for  the  purpose  of  placing  an  appraisement  on 
him.  "A  man  who  worships  Ouida  and  decries  Sir 
Richard  Steele." 

"  No,  I  don't  worship  Ouida,  but  I  read  her  some- 
times because  she  is  interesting.  As  for  Steele,  he  is 
decried  by  your  praise.  Say,  John,  you  advised  me  to 
change  grocers  every  month,  and  I  don't  know  but 
it  would  be  a  good  plan.  An  old  fellow  that  I  have 
been  trading  with  has  sent  me  a  bill  for  eighty-three 
dollars." 

"  John,  he  probably  takes  you  for  a  great  man  and 
wants  to  compliment  you." 

"I  don't  object  to  a  compliment,  but  that  was  flat- 
tery," Richmond  replied,  taking  his  feet  off  one  chair 
and  putting  them  on  another.  "  Let's  ride  home,  John ; 
it's  'most  too  slippery  to  walk." 

"All  right.  You  have  ruined  my  health  already  by 
making  me  walk  with  you.  Come  on ;  well  go  now." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

AN  OLD   MAX   WOULD   INVEST. 

1TTHEX  Henry  went  home  to  dinner  lie  found,,  already 
*  *  seated  at  the  table,  old  man  Colton,  Mrs.  Coltou 
:md  Mrs.  Brooks.  The  old  Mary  lander  got  away  from 
his  soup,  got  off  his  chair,  and  greeted  Henry  with  an 
uffusive  display  of  what  might  have  been  his  pleasure  at 
-seeing  the  young  man,  but  which  had  more  of,  the 
uppearance  of  a  palavering  pretense.  He  bowed,  ducked 
his  head  first  on  one  side  and  then  on  the  other  —  and 
his  colored  handkerchief  dangled  at  his  coat-tails.  He 
found  his  tongue,  which  at  first  he  seemed  to  have  lost, 
and  with  his  bald  head  bobbing  about,  he  appeared  as 
an  aged  child,  prattling  at  random. 

"Hah,  hah,  delighted  to  see  you  again,  my  dear 
young  man.  Didn't  know  that  I  was  coming  when  you 
were  so  kind  as  to  take  lunch  with  me  to-day ;  ladies 
came  in  the  afternoon  ;  Brooks  couldn't  come  with  me, 
but  he  will  be  here  later  on.  Hah,  hah,  they  are  taking 
excellent  care  of  us,  you  see.  Ah,  you  sit  here  by  me  ? 
Glad." 

Mrs.  Colton  was  exceedingly  feeble,  and  her  daughter 
appeared  as  a  very  old-fashioned  girl  in  a  stylish  habit 
—  an  old  daguerreotype  sort  of  face,  smooth,  shiny  and 
expressionless. 

"  We  have  all  been  talking  about  you,"  Colton  said, 

as  Henry  sat  down.     "  Your  mother  and  sister  think  you 

136 


THE  COLOSSUS.  127 

a  very  wonderful  man,  and  my  dear  friend  Wither- 
spoon  " 

"Brother  Colton  is  from  Maryland,"  Witherspoon 
remarked. 

Colton  laughed  and  ducked  his  head.  Ah,  the  list- 
less wit  of  the  rich  !  It  may  be  pointless,  but  how  laugh- 
able is  the  millionaire's  joke. 

"But,  my  dear  young  man,  we  are  determined  to 
have  you  with  us,"  Colton  declared,  when  he  had  recov- 
ered himself.  He  nodded  at  Witherspoon. 

"We  are  going  to  try,"  the  great  merchant  replied. 
"  By  the  way,  I  told  Brooks  that  we'd  have  to  press 
Bradley  &  Adams,  of  Atchison,  Kansas.  They  are 
altogether  too  slow  —  there's  no  excuse  for  it." 

"None  in  the  world  ;  none  whatever,"  Coltou  agreed. 
He  more  than  agreed,  for  there  was  alarm  in  his  voice, 
and  the  alarm  of  an  old  miser  is  pitiable.  "  Gracious 
alive,  can  they  expect  people  to  wait  always  ?  Dear, 
what  can  the  world  be  coming  to  when  we  are  all  to  be 
cheate'd  out  of  our  rights?  We'll  have  the  law  on 
them." 

Money  professes  great  love  for  the  law,  and  not  with- 
out cause.  The  rich  man  thinks  that  the  law  is  his ; 
and  the  poor  man  says,  "It  was  not  made  for  me." 

Among  the  ladies  Henry  was  the  subject  of  a 
subdued  discussion,  and  occasionally  he  heard  Mrs. 
Colton  say  :  "  Such  a  comfort  to  you,  and  after  so  many 
years  of  separation.  So  manly."  And  then  Mrs. 
Brooks  would  say  :  "Yes,  indeed." 

Henry  noticed  that  Colton  was  not  accompanied  with 
his  mutton-broth  economy.  It  was  evident  that  the 
old  man  was  frugal  only  to  his  own  advantage,  and  that 
his  heartiness  came  at  ^he  expense  of  other  men. 


128  THE  COLOSSUS. 

Brooks  arrived  soon  after  dinner.  The  women  went 
to  the  drawing-room  to  talk  about  Henry,  and  to  ex- 
change harmless  hypocrisies,  and  the  men  betook  them- 
selves to  the  library  to  smoke  and  to  discuss  plots  that 
are  known  as  enterprises.  Country  merchants  were 
taken  up,  turned  over,  examined  and  put  down  ruined. 
Brooks  was  as  keen  and  as  ardent  as  a  prosecuting  attor- 
ney.  Every  man  who  owed  a  bill  was  under  indictment. 

"You  see,"  he  said  to  Henry,  "we  have  to  hold  these 
fellows  tight  or  they  would  get  loose  and  smash  us." 

"You  needn't  apologize  to  me,"  Henry  replied. 

"  Of  course  not,  but  as  you  say  that  you  don't  under- 
stand business,  I  merely  wanted  to  show  you  to  what 
extent  we  are  driven." 

"  Oh,  I  assure  you  that  it  is  awfully  unpleasant,"  said 
Col  ton,  "  but  we  have  to  do  it.  And  let  me  tell  you, 
my  dear  young  man,  there  is  more  crime  than  you 
imagine  in  the  neglect  of  these  fellows.  In  this  blessed 
country  there  is  hardly  any  excuse  for  a  man's  failure 
to  meet  his  obligations.  The  trouble  is  that  people  who 
can't  afford  it  live  too  high.  Let  them  economize  ;  let 
them  be  sensible.  Why,  I  could  have  gone  broke  forty- 
odd  years  ago ;  hah,  I  could  go  broke  now.  Oh,  I  know 
that  we  are  all  accused  of  being  hard,  but  you  have  no 
idea  what  the  wealthy  people  of  this  city  do  for  the 
poor.  Just  look  at  the  charity  balls ;  look  at  our  annual 
showing,  and  you'll  find  it  remarkable." 

Henry  felt  that  the  charity  of  the  rich  was  largely 
a  species  of  "  bluff  "  that  they  make  at  one  another.  It 
was  not  real  charity;  it  was  an  advertisement — it  was 
business. 

"My  dear  friend  "Witherspocn,"  said  Colton,  mouth- 
ing his  cigar — he  did  not  smoke  at  home — "  I  am  going 


THE  COLOSSUS.  129 

to  branch  out  more.  I'm  going  to  make  investments. 
I  see  that  it  is  safe,  and  I  want  you  to  help  me." 

"  All  right ;  how  much  do  you  want  to  invest  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  can  place  my  hand  on  a  little  money — just  a 
little.  I've  got  some  in  stocks,  but  I've  got  a  little  by 
me." 

"  How  much  ?  " 

This  frightened  him.  "  Oh,  I  don't  know ;  really,  I 
can't  tell.  But  I  think  that  I've  got  a  little  that  I'd 
like  to  invest.  But  I'll  talk  to  you  about  it  to-morrow." 

"All  right." 

"  I  think  real  estate  would  be  about  the  right  thing. 
I  could  soon  turn  it  over,  you  know.  Some  wonder- 
fully fortunate  investments  have  been  made  that  way. 
But  I'll  talk  to  you  about  it  to-morrow." 

Brooks  said  that  he  was  in  something  of  a  hurry  to 
get  home,  and  the  visitors  took  their  leave  early  in  the 
evening.  Witherspoon  returned  to  the  library  after 
going  to  the  door  with  Colton.  He  sat  down,  stretched 
forth  his  feet,  meditated  for  a  few  moments,  and  said  : 
"  The  bark  on  a  beech  tree  was  never  any  closer  than 
that  old  man,  and  yet  he  is  kind-hearted." 

""When  kindness  doesn't  cost  anything,  I  suppose," 
Henry  suggested. 

"  Yes,  that's  true.  He  spoke  of  the  wonderful  show- 
ing of  the  charities  of  this  city  as  though  he  were  a 
prime  mover  in  them,  when,  in  fact,  I  don't  think  he 
ever  contributed  more  than  a  barrel  of  flour  in  any  one 
year.  But  he  is  a  good  business  man,  and  if  there  were 
more  like  him  there  would  be  fewer  bankrupts." 

Ellen  appeared  at  the  door.  "  Henry,  mother  and  I 
are  going  to  your  room  to  pay  you  a  call." 


130  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"  All  right,  I'll  go  np  with  you.  Won't  you  come, 
father  ?  " 

"  No,  I  believe  not.  Think  I'll  read  a  while  and  go 
to  bed." 

Henry's  room  was  bright  with  a  gladsome  fire.  On 
the  table  had  been  set  a  vase  of  moss  roses,  and  beside 
the  vase  lay  an  old  black  pipe,  tied  with  a  blue  ribbon. 
The  young  man  laughed,  and  the  girl  said  : 

"  Mother's  doings.     Ugh  !  the  nasty  thing  ! " 

"If  my  son  smoked  a  pipe  when  he  was  in  exile," 
Mrs.  Witherspoon  replied,  "  he  can  do  so  now.  None 
of  the  privileges  of  a  strange  land  shall  be  denied  him 
in  his  own  home." 

She  sat  in  an  easy-chair  and  was  slowly  rocking. 
To  man  a  rocking-chair  is  a  remembrancer  of  a  mother's 
affection. 

"Light  your  pipe,  my  son." 

"No,  not  now,  mother." 

Ellen  sat  on  an  arm  of  Henry's  chair.  "  Your  hair 
would  curl  if  you  were  to  encourage  it,"  she  remarked. 

"  Has  anybody  said  anything  about  curly  hair  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"No,  but  I  was  just  thinking  that  yours  might  curl." 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  look  like  Brooks  ?  " 

She  frowned.  "  He  kinks  his  with  a  hot  poker.  I 
don't  like  pretty  men." 

"  How  about  handsome  men  ?  " 

.  "Oh,  I  have  to  like  them.     You  are  a  handsome 
man,  you  know." 

"Nonsense,"  he  replied. 

"Your  grandmother  was  a  very  handsome  woman," 
said  Mrs.  Witherspoon.  "She  had  jet-black  hair,  and 
her  teeth  were  like  pearls.  Ellen,  what  did  Mr.  Coglin 


THE  COLOSSUS.  131 

say  when  you  gave  him  the  slippers  ? "  Mr.  Coglin 
was  a  clergyman. 

"Oh,  he  thanked  me,  of  course.  He  couldn't  very 
well  have  said,  '  Take  them  away/  * 

"But  did  you  tell  him  that  you  embroidered  them 
with  your  own  hands  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  told  him." 

"Then  what  did  he  say  ?" 

"  He  pretended  to  be  greatly  surprised,  and  said  some- 
thing, but  I  have  forgotten  what  it  was.  Mrs.  Brooks 
is  awful  tiresome  with  her  '  Yes,  indeed/  isn't  she  ? 
Seems  to  me  that  I'd  learn  something  else." 

"  She's  hardly  so  tiresome  with  her  '  Yes,  indeed/  as 
her  father  is  with  his  '  Hah,  hah,  my  dear  Mr.  Wither- 
spoon/  "  Henry  replied. 

"But  he  is  a  very  old  man,  my  son,"  said  Mrs.  "With- 
erspoon,  "  and  you  must  excuse  him.  I  have  heard  that 
he  was  quite  aristocratic  before  the  war. " 

"Oh,  he  never  was  aristocratic,"  Ellen  declared. 
"  Aristocracy  hampered  by  extreme  stinginess  would  cut 
but  a  poor  figure,  I  should  think. " 

"  Have  we  set  up  a  grill  here  ?  "  Henry  asked. 

Mrs.  Witherspoon  nodded  at  Ellen  as  if  to  emphasize 
the  rebuke,  and  the  young  woman  exclaimed  :  "Oh, 
I'm  singled  out,  am  I  ?  Who  said  that  the  old  man's 
'  hah,  hah/  was  tiresome  ?  You'd  better  nod  at  your 
son,  mother." 

But  she  gave  her  son  never  a  nod.  In  her  sight  he 
surely  could  commit  no  indiscretion.  A  moment  later 
the  mother  asked  : 

"  Have  they  talked  to  you  again  about  going  into  the 
store  ? " 

"Oh,  they  hint  at  it  occasionally." 


132  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"  Ellen,  can't  yon  find  a  chair  ?  I  know  your  brother 
must  be  tired."  Ellen  got  off  the  arm  of  Henry's 
chair,  and  soon  afterward  Mrs.  Witherspoon  took  the 
vacated  place.  The  young  woman  laughed,  but  said 
nothing.  The  mother  fondly  touched  Henry's  hair  and 
smoothed  it  back  from  his  forehead.  "Don't  you  let 
them  worry  you,  my  son.  They  can't  help  but  respect 
your  manliness.  Indeed,"  she  added,  growing  strangely 
bold  for  one  so  gentle,  "must  a  man  be  a  merchant 
whether  he  will  or  not  ?  And  whenever  you  want  to 
write  about  poor  women,  you  do  it.  They  are  mis- 
treated ;  they  are  made  wretched,  and  by  just  such  men 
as  Brooks,  too.  What  does  he  care  for  a  woman's  mis- 
ery ?  And  your  father's  so  blind  that  he  doesn't  see  it. 
But  I  see  it.  And  I  oughtn't  to  say  it,  but  I  will  —  he 
has  the  impudence  to  tell  your  father  that  I  give  too  much 
money  to  the  poor.  It's  none  of  his  business,  I'm  sure." 

There  was  a  peculiar  softness  in  Henry's  voice  when 
he  replied:  "I  hope  some  time  to  catch  him  interfering 
with  your  affairs." 

"  Oh,  but  you  mustn't  say  a  word,  my  son  —  not  a 
word ;  and  I  don't  want  your  father  to  know  that  I  have 
said  anything." 

"  He  shall  not  know,  but  I  hope  some  time  to  catch 
Brooks  interfering  with  your  affairs.  He  has  meddled 
with  mine,  but  I  can  forgive  that." 

Henry  walked  up  and  down  the  room  when  Mrs. 
Witherspoon  and  Ellen  were  gone.  With  a  mother's 
love,  that  gentle  woman  had  found  a  mother's  place  in 
his  heart.  He  looked  at  the  rocking-chair.  Suddenly 
he  seized  hold  of  the  mantelpiece  to  steady  himself. 
He  had  caught  himself  seriously  wondering  if  she  had 
rocked  him  years  ago. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE   INVESTMENT. 

IT  seemed  to  Henry  that  he  had  just  dozed  off  to  sleep 
when  he  was  startled  by  a  loud  knock  at  the  door. 

"Henry,  Henry  ! "     It  was  Witherspoon's  voice. 
Yes." 

"Get  up,  quick!    Old  man  Colton  is  murdered." 

When  he  went  down-stairs  he  found  the  household  in 
confusion.  Every  one  on  the  place  had  been  aroused. 
The  servants  were  whispering  in  the  hall.  Witherspoon 
was  waiting  for  him. 

"  A  messenger  has  just  brought  the  news.  Come,  we 
must  go  over  there.  The  carriage  is  waiting." 

It  was  two  o'clock.  A  fierce  and  cutting  wind  swept 
across  the  lake  —  the  icy  breath  of  a  dying  year.  Not 
a  word  was  spoken  as  the  carriage  sped  along.  At  the 
door  of  Colton's  home  Witherspoon  and  Henry  were 
confronted  by  a  policeman. 

"My  orders  are  to  let  no  one  in,"  said  the  officer. 

"I  am  George  Witherspoon." 

The  policeman  stepped  aside.  Brooks  met  them  in 
the  hall.  He  said  nothing,  but  took  Witherspoon's 
hand.  The  place  was  thronged  with  police  officers  and 
reporters. 

Adjoining  Colton's  sleeping-apartment,  on  the  second 
floor,  was  a  small  room  with  a  window  looking  out  on 
the  back  yard,  and  with  one  door  opening  from  the 

133 


134  THE  COLOSSUS. 

hall.  In  this  room,  let  partly  into  the  wall,  was  an 
iron  safe  in  which  the  old  man  kept  "  the  little  money  " 
that  he  had  decided  to  invest  in  real  estate.  The  win- 
dow was  protected  by  upright  iron  bars.  At  night,  a 
gas-jet,  turned  low,  threw  dismal  shadows  about  the 
room,  and  it  was  the  old  man's  habit  to  light  the  gas 
at  bed-time  and  to  turn  it  off  the  first  thing  at  morning. 
He-  had  lighted  the  gas  shortly  after  returning  from 
Witherspoon's  house  and  had  gone  to  bed,  and  it  must 
have  been  about  one  o'clock  when  the  household  was 
startled  by  the  report  of  a  pistol.  Brooks  and  his  wife, 
whose  room  was  on  the  same  floor,  ran  into  the  old 
man's  room.  The  place  was  dark,  but  a  bright  light 
burned  in  the  vault-room.  Into  this  room  they  ran, 
and  there,  lying  on  the  floor,  with  money  scattered 
about  him,  was  the  old  man,  bloody  and  dead,  with  a 
bullet-hole  in  his  breast.  But  where  was  Mrs.  Colton  ? 
They  hastened  back  to  her  room  and  struck  a  light. 
The  old  woman  lay  across  the  bed,  unable  to  move  — 
paralyzed. 

The  first  discovery  made  by  the  police  was  that  the 
iron  bars  at  the  window,  four  in  number,  had  been 
sawed  in  two ;  and  then  followed  another  discovery  of  a 
more  singular  nature.  In  the  window,  caught  by  the  sud- 
den fall  of  the  sash,  was  a  black  frock  coat.  In  one  of  the 
tail  pockets  was  a  briar-root  pipe.  The  sash  had  fallen 
while  the  murderer  was  getting  out,  and,  pulled  against 
the  sash,  the  pipe  held  the  garment  fast.  One  sleeve  was 
torn  nearly  off.  In  a  side  pocket  was  found  a  letter 
addressed  to  Dave  Kittymunks,  general  delivery,  Chi- 
cago, and  post-marked  Milwaukee.  Under  the  window 
a  ladder  was  found. 

At  the  coroner's  inquest,  held  the  next  day,  one  of 


THE  COLOSSUS.  135 

the  servants  testified  that  three  days  before,  while  the 
old  man  and  Brooks  were  at  the  store  and  while  the 
ladies  were  out,  a  man  with  black  whiskers,  and  who 
wore  a  black  coat,  had  called  at  the  house  and  said  that 
he  had  been  sent  to  search  for  sewer-gas.  He  had  an 
order  presumably  signed  by  Mr.  Colton,  and  was  ac- 
cordingly shown  through  the  house.  He  had  insisted 
upon  going  into  the  vault-room,  declaring  that  he  had 
located  the  gas  there,  but  was  told  that  the  room  was 
always  kept  locked.  He  then  went  away.  The  serv- 
ant had  not  thought  to  tell  Mr.  Colton. 

A  general  delivery  clerk  at  the  post-office  testified 
that  the  letter  addressed  to  Dave  Kittymunks  had 
passed  through  his  hands.  The  oddness  of  the  name 
had  fastened  it  on  his  memory.  He  did  not  think  that 
he  could  identify  the  man  who  had  received  the  letter, 
but  he  recalled  the  black  whiskers.  The  letter  was  ap- 
parently written  by  a  woman,  and  was  signed  "Lil."  It 
was  an  urgent  appeal  for  money. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

ARRESTED   EVERYWHERE. 

^TTTHO  is  Dave  Kittymunks  ?"  was  a  question  asked 
*  '  by  the  newspapers  throughout  the  country.  Not 
the  slightest  trace  of  him  could  be  found,  nor  could  "  Lil  " 
be  discovered  with  any  degree  of  certainty.  But  one 
morning  the  public  was  fed  to  an  increase  of  appetite  by 
an  article  that  appeared  in  a  Chicago  newspaper. 
"  Kitty mnnks  came  to  Chicago  about  five  months  ago," 
said  the  writer,  "  and  for  a  time  went  under  the  name 
of  John  Pruett.  Fierce  in  his  manner,  threatening  in 
his  talk,  wearing  a  scowl,  frowning  at  prattling  chil- 
dren and  muttering  at  honest  men,  he  repelled  every 
one.  Dissatisfied  with  his  lot  in  life,  he  refused,  even 
for  commensurate  compensation,  to  perform  that  honest 
labor  which  is  the  province  of  every  true  man,  and  like 
a  hyena,  he  prowled  about  growling  at  himself  and 
despising  fate.  The  writer  met  him  on  several  occa- 
sions and  held  out  inducements  that  might  lead  to  con- 
versation, but  was  persistently  repulsed  by  him.  He 
frowned  upon  society,  and  set  the  grinding  heel  of  his 
disapproval  on  every  attempt  to  draw  him  out.  Was 
there  some  dark  mystery  connected  with  his  life  ?  This 
question  the  writer  asked  himself.  He  execrated 
humanity ;  and,  moody  and  alone,  the  writer  has  seen 
him  sitting  on  a  bench  on  the  lake  front,  turning  with 
a  sullen  look  and  viewing  with  suppressed  rage  the 

architectural  grandeur  towering  at  his  back." 

136 


THE  COLOSSUS.  127 

The  article  was  written  by  Mr.  Flummers.  As  the 
only  reporter  who  could  write  from  contact  with  the 
mnrderer,  his  sentences  were  bloated  into  strong  signifi- 
cance. Fame  reached  down  and  snatched  him  up,  and 
the  blue  light  of  his  flambeau  played  about  him. 

"  Pessimist  as  he  is  " —  Flummers  was  holding  forth 
among  the  night  reporters  at  the  central  station  — 
"  Pessimist  as  he  is,  and  a  skeptic  though  he  may  be, 
papa  goes  through  this  life  with  his  eyes  open.  Idle 
suggestion  says,  '  Shut  your  eyes,  papa,  and  be  happy,' 
but  shrewdness  says,  '  Watch  that  fellow  going  along 
there/  I  don't  claim  any  particular  credit  for  this ; 
we  are  not  to  be  vain  of  what  nature  has  done  for  us, 
nor  censured  for  what  she  has  denied.  We  are  all  chil- 
dren, toddling  about  as  an  experiment,  and  wondering 
what  we  are  going  to  be.  Some  of  us  fall  and  weep 
over  our  bruises,  and  some  of  us — some  of  us  get  there. 
He,  he,  he." 

"Flummers,  have  they  raised  your  salary  yet  ?"  some 
one  asked. 

"Oh,  no,  and  that's  why  I  am  disgusted  with  the 
newspaper  profession.  The  country  cries  out,  '  Who  is 
the  man  ? '  There  is  a  deep  silence.  The  country 
cries  again,  '  Does  any  one  know  this  man  ? '  And 
then  papa  speaks.  But  what  does  he  get  ?  The  razzle. 
A  great  scoop  rewarded  with  a  razzle.  My  achieve- 
ments are  taken  too  much  as  a  matter  of  course.  I 
don't  assert  myself  enough.  I  am  too  modest.  Say,  I 
smell  liquor.  Who's  got  a  bottle  ?  Somebody  took  a 
cork  out  of  a  bottle.  Who  was  it  ?  Say,  Will,  have 
you  got  a  bottle  ?  " 

"Thought  you  said  that  your  doctor  told  you  not  to 
drink." 


138  'TffE  COLOSSUS. 

"  He  did  ;  he  said  that  I  had  intercostal  rheumatism. 
He  examined  me  carefully,  and  when  I  asked  him  what 
he  thought,  he  replied,  '  Mr.  Flummers,  you  can't  afford 
to  drink.' " 

"  And  did  you  tell  him  that  you  could  afford  it  —  that 
it  didn't  cost  you  anything  ?  " 

"  Oh,  ho,  ho,  no !  Say,  send  out  and  get  a  bottle. 
What  are  you  fellows  playing  there  ?  Ten  cents  ante, 
all  jack  pots  ?  It's  a  robbers'  game." 

In  every  community  a  stranger  wearing  black 
whiskers  was  under  suspicion.  A  detective  shrewdly 
suggested  that  the  murderer  might  have  shaved,  and 
he  claimed  great  credit  for  this  timely  hint ;  but  no 
matter,  the  search  for  the  black-whiskered  man  was 
continued.  Dave  Kittymimks  was  arrested  in  all  parts 
of  the  country,  and  the  head-line  writer,  whose  humor 
could  not  long  be  held  in  subjection,  began  to  express 
himself  thus:  "Dave  Kittymunks  captured  in  St.  Paul, 
also  seized  in  New  Orleans,  and  is  hotly  pursued  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Kansas  City." 

Witherspoon,  sitting  by  his  library  fire  at  night, 
would  say  over  and  over  again  :  "I  told  him  never  to 
keep  any  money  in  the  house.  He  was  so  close,  so 
suspicious  ;  and  then  to  put  his  money  in  a  safe  that  a 
boy  might  have  knocked  to  pieces  ! "  And  it  became 
Mrs.  Witherspoon's  habit  to  declare  :  "  I  just  know  that 
somebody  will  break  into  our  house  next."  Then  the 
merchant's  impatience  would  express  itself  with  a  grunt. 
"Oh,  it  has  given  you  and  Ellen  a  rare  chance  fcr 
speculation.  We'd  better  wall  ourselves  in  a  cave  and 
die  there  waiting  for  robbers  to  drill  their  way  in.  It 
does  seem  to  me  that  they  ought  to  catch  that  fellow, 


THE  COLOSSUS.  139 

I  told  Brooks  that  he'd  better  increase  the  reward  to 
fifty  thousand." 

Witherspoon  and  Brooks  called  at  Henry's  office. 
"You  may  publish  the  fact  that  I  have  offered  fifty 
thousand  dollars  reward  for  Kittymunks,"  said  Brooks, 
speaking  to  Henry,  but  looking  into  the  room  where 
Miss  Drury  was  at  work. 

"  That  ought  to  be  a  great  stimulus,"  Henry  replied, 
"  but  it  doesn't  appear  to  me  that  there  has  been  any 
lack  of  effort." 

"No,"  said  Witherspoon  ;  "but  the  prospect  of  fifty 
thousand  dollars  will  make  a  strong  effort  stronger." 

"By  the  way,"  Henry  remarked,  "this  is  the  first 
time  you  have  visited  me  in  my  work-room." 

Witherspoon  replied  :  "  Yes,  that's  so  ;  and  it  strikes 
me  that  you  might  get  more  comfortable  quarters." 

"Comfortable  enough  for  a  workshop,5'  Henry  re- 
joined. 

"  Yes,  I  presume  so.     Are  you  ready,  Brooks  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"We  have  just  come  from  police  headquarters,"  said 
Witherspoon,  "and  thought  that  we  would  stop  and 
tell  you  of  the  increased  reward.  You  were  late  at 
dinner  yesterday.  Will  you  be  on  time  this  evening  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  think  so." 

When  they  were  gone,  Henry  went  into  Miss  Drury's 
room.  "  Was  that  your  father  ?  "  she  asked. 

"Yes." 

"  And  he  scolded  you  for  being  late  yesterday.  If  he 
had  suspected  that  I  was  the  cause,  I  suppose  he  would 
have  come  in  and  stormed  at  me." 

"You  were  not  the  cause." 

"  Yes,  you  were  helping  me  with  my  work." 


140  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"It  was  my  work,  too."  He  tilted  a  pile  of  news- 
papers off  a  chair,  sat  down  and  said  :  "  I  feel  at  home 
with  you." 

"  Oh,  am  I  so  homely  ?  "  she  asked,  smiling. 

"  Yes,  restoring  the  word  to  its  best  meaning.  By 
the  way,  you  haven't  cut  off  your  hair." 

"No,  I  forgot  it,  but  I'm  going  to." 

"  My  sister  Ellen  has  hair  something  like  yours,  but 
not  so  heavy  and  not  so  bright." 

"I  should  like  to  see  her." 

"  Because  she  has  hair  like  yours  ?  " 

"What  a  question  !  No,  because  I  am  acquainted 
with  her  brother,  of  course. " 

"  And  when  you  become  acquainted  with  a  man  do 
you  want  to  meet  his  sister  ?  " 

"Oh,  you  are  getting  to  be  a  regular  tease,  Mr. 
Witherspoon.  After  awhile  I  shall  be  afraid  to  talk  to 
you." 

"  I  hope  the  clock  will  refuse  to  record  that  time. 
You  say  that  you  would  like  to  see  my  sister.  You 
shall  see  her ;  you  must  come  home  to  dinner  with 
me." 

She  gave  him  a  quick  look,  a  mere  glance,  the  short- 
est sentence  within  the  range  of  human  expression,  but 
in  that  short  sentence  a  full  book  of  meaning.  One 
moment  she  was  nothing  but  a  resentment ;  but  when 
she  looked  up  again  the  light  in  her  eyes  had  been 
softened  by  that  half -sarcastic  pity  which  a  well-bred 
woman  feels  for  the  ignorance  of  man. 

"Your  sister  has  not  called  on  me,"  she  said. 

He  replied :  "  I  beg  your  pardon  for  overlooking 
the  ceremonious  flirtation  which  women  insist  shall  be 
indulged  in,  for  I  assure  you  that  their  ways  are  some- 


TEE  COLOSSUS.  141 

times  a  mystery  to  me  ;  but  I  admit  that  the  commonest 
sort  of  sense  should  have  kept  me  from  falling  into  this 
error.  My  sister  shall  call  on  you." 

"Pardon  me,  but  she  must  not." 

"  And  may  I  ask  why  not  ?  " 

"My  aunt  lives  in  a  flat,"  she  answered. 

"  Suppose  she  does  ?  What  difference  can  that 
make  ? " 

"  It  makes  this  difference  :  Your  sister  couldn't  con- 
ceal the  air  of  a  patron,  and  I  couldn't  hide  my  resent" 
meut ;  therefore,"  she  added  with  a  smile  that  brought 
back  all  her  brightness,  "  to  be  friends  we  must  remain 
strangers. " 

"  But  suppose  I  should  call  on  you  ;  would  you  regard 
it  as  a  patronage  ?  " 

"No." 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  you  are  a  man." 

"You  women  are  peculiar  creatures." 

"  An  old  idea  always  patly  expressed,"  she  replied. 

"But  isn't  it  true?" 

"It  must  be,  or  it  wouldn't  have  lived  so  long,"  she 
answered. 

"A  pleasing  sentiment,"  he  replied,  "but  old  age  is 
not  a  mark  of  truth,  for  nothing  is  grayer  than  false- 
hood." 

"  But  it  finally  dies,  and  truth  lives  on,"  she  rejoined. 

"No,  it  is  often  buried." 

"  So  is  a  mummy  buried,  but  it  it  brought  to  light 
again." 

"Yes,  but  it  doesn't  live  ;  it  is  simply  a  mummy." 

"Oh,  well,"  she  said,  "I  know  that  you  are  wrong, 
but  I  won't  worry  with  it." 


J42  THE  COLOSSUS. 

John  Eichmond  opened  the  door  of  Henry's  room. 
"Come  in,"  Henry  called,  advancing  to  meet  him. 
"  How  are  you  ?  And  now  that  you  are  here,  make 
yourself  at  home." 

"All  right,"  Eichmond  replied,  sitting  down,  reaching 
out  with  his  foot  and  drawing  a  spittoon  toward  him. 
"  How  is  everything  running  9  " 

"First-rate." 

"You  are  getting  out  a  good  paper.  I  have  just 
heard  that  the  reward  for  Kittymuiiks  has  been  in- 
creased." 

"Yes,  it  was  increased  not  more  than  an  hour  ago." 

"  Who  is  to  pay  it  ?  " 

"  The  State,  you  know,  has  offered  a  small  reward  ; 
the  Colossus  Company  is  to  pay  twenty  thousand  dollars. 
and  the  remainder  will  be  paid  by  the  Colton  estate." 

"Who  constitutes  the  Colton  estate  ?" 

"Brooks,  mainly." 

Eichmond  put  his  hand  to  his  mouth.  "  That's  what 
I  thought,"  said  he.  "Do  you  know  Brooks  very 
well  ?  "  he  asked  after  a  short  silence. 

"Not  very." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  him  ?  " 

"I  despise  him." 

"I  thought  so.  As  the  French  say,  whom  does  it 
benefit  ?  " 

They  looked  at  each  other,  but  said  nothing.  There 
could  be  no  mistake  as  to  who  was  benefited.  After  a 
time  Henry  remarked  :  "  I  see  that  Flummers  has  gone 
to  Omaha  to  identify  a  suspect." 

"  He  did  go,  but  I  heard  some  of  the  boys  say  that  he 
reiwrned  this  morning.  Is  your  work  all  done  for  to« 
day?" 


THE  COLOSSUS.  143 

"Yes,  about  all." 

"  Suppose  we  go  over  to  the  club." 

"All  right.     Wait  a  moment." 

Henry  stepped  into  Miss  Drury's  room.  "  You  must 
forgive  me,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone. 

"  What  for  ?  "  she  asked,  in  surprise. 

"  For  so  rudely  inviting  you  to  dinner  when  my  sister 
had  not  even  called  on  you." 

"Oh,  that's  nothing,"  she  replied,  laughing.  "Such 
mistakes  are  common  enough  with  men,  I  should 
think." 

"  Not  with  sensible  men.     What  have  you  here  ?  " 

"Oh,  some  stupid  paragraphs  about  women." 
.    "They'll  keep  till  to-morrow." 

"Bat  Mr.  Mitchell  said  he  wanted  them  to-day." 

"  Tell  him  if  he  calls  for  them  that  I  want  them  to- 
morrow. You'd  better  go  home  and  rest." 

"  Rest  ?  Why,  I  haven't  done  anything  to  make  me 
tired." 

"  Well,  you  don't  know  how  soon  you  may  be  tired, 
and  you'd  better  take  your  rest  in  advance.  All  right, 
John,"  he  said  in  a  louder  tone,  "I'm  with  you." 

When  they  entered  the  office  of  the  Press  Club,  a  fo- 
rensic voice,  followed  by  laughter,  bore  to  them  the 
intelligence  that  Mr.  Flummers  was  in  the  front  room, 
declaiming  his  recent  adventures.  They  found  the  ora- 
tor measuredly  stepping  the  short  distance  between  the 
round  table  and  the  post  on  which  was  fixed  the  button 
of  the  electric  bell.  Led  by  fondness  to  believe  that 
some  one,  moved  to  generosity,  might  ask  him  to  ring 
for  the  drinks,  he  showed  a  disposition  to  loiter  when- 
ever he  reached  the  post,  and  the  light  of  eager  expect- 


144  THE  COLOSSUS. 

ancy  and  the  shadow  of  sore  disappointment  played  a 
trick  pantomime  on  his  countenance. 

"  Oh,  ho,  ho,  here  come  two  of  my  staff.  John,  I 
have  been  talking  for  an  hour,  and  the  bell  is  rn  sting 
from  disuse." 

"  Why  don't  you  ring  it  on  your  own  account  ?  " 

"Oh,  no;  you  can't  expect  one  man  to  do  every- 
thing." 

"  Go  on  with  your  story. " 

"  But  is  there  anything  in  it  ?  " 

"  If  you  mean  your  story,  I  don't  think  there's  much 
in  it." 

"If  you  cut  it  short  enough,"  said  Mortimer,  "we'll 
all  contribute." 

"There  spoke  a  disgruntled  Englishman,"  Flummers 
exclaimed.  "  Having  no  humor  himself,  he  scowls  on 

the — the" He  scalloped  the  air,  but  it  failed  to 

bring  the  right  word.  "  Jim,  you'd  better  confine  your- 
self to  the  writing  of  encyclopedias  and  nflt  meddle  with 
the  buzz-saw  of  —  of  sharp  retort." 

"He  appears  to  have  made  it  that  time,"  said 
Whittlesy. 

"Now,  Whit,  it  may  behoove  some  men  to  speak, 
but  it  doesn't  behoove  you.  Eemember  that  I  hold  you 
in  the  hollow  of  my  hand." 

"  Let  us  have  the  story,"  said  Henry. 

"But  is  the  laborer  worthy  of  his  hire — is  there  any- 
thing in  it  ?  " 

"Yes,  ring  the  bell." 

"That's  the  stuff." 

"Flummers,"  some  one  remarked,  a  few  moments 
later,  "  I  don't  think  that  I  ever  saw  you  drunk. " 

Flummers  tapped  his  forehead  and  replied  :     "  The 


THE  COLOSSUS.  145 

Win  predominates  the  jag.  But  I  must  gather  up  the 
flapping  ends  of  my  discourse.  I  will  begin  again." 

"Are  you  going  to  repeat  that  dose  of  bloody  rot  ?" 
Mortimer  asked. 

"Jim,  I  pity  you.  I  pity  any  man  that  can't  see  a 
point  when  it's  held  under  his  nose." 

"Or  smell  one  when  it's  held  under  his  eye,"  some 
one  suggested. 

"You  fellows  are  pretty  gay,"  said  Flummers.  "You 
must  have  drawn  your  princely  stipends  this  week." 
He  hesitated  a  moment,  pressed  his  hand  to  his  fore- 
head, cut  a  fish-hook  in  the  air  and  resumed  his  recital : 

"When  I  reached  Omaha  it  was  snowing.  The 
heavens  wore  a  feathery  frown." 

"He  didn't  fill,"  said  Whittlesy. 

Flnmmers  condemned  him  with  a  look  and  continued  : 
"The  wind  whetted  itself  to  keenness  on  a  bleak  knob 
and  came  down  to  shave  its  unhappy  customers." 

"He  made  his  flush,"  said  Whittlesy. 

Flummers  did  not  look  at  him.  "I  went  imme- 
diately to  the  jail,  where  one  of  the  rank  and  file  of 
the  Kittymunkses  was  confined ;  and  say,  you  ought 
to  hare  seen  the  poor,  miserable,  bug-bitten  wretch 
they  stood  up  in  front  of  me.  He  wore  about  a  half- 
pint  of  dirty  whiskers,  and  in  his  make-up  he  reminded 
me  of  a  scare-crow  that  brother  and  I  once  made  to 
put  out  on  the  farm  in  Wisconsin.  I  have  seen  a  num- 
ber of  Sittymunkses,  but  he  was  the  worst.  I  said, 
'  Say,  why  don't  you  wash  yourself  ? '  and  the  horrible 
suggestion  made  him  shudder.  f  Is  this  the  man  ? ' 
the  sheriff  asked.  '  Gentlemen, '  I  replied,  disdaining 
the  sheriff,  '  on  the  first  train  that  pulls  out  I  am  going 
back  to  Chicago;  and  whenever  you  catch  another 


146  THE  COLOSSUS. 

baboon  that  has  worn  himself  threadbare  by  sitting 
around  your  village,  telegraph  me  and  I  will  come  and 
tell  you  to  turn  him  loose.'  '  Then  he  is  not  the 
man  ? '  said  the  sheriff,  giving  me  a  look  that  told  of 
deep  official  disappointment.  '  Gentlemen/  I  replied, 
still  disdaining  the  sheriff,  'I  never  saw  this  poor 
wretch  before.  Tra  la. '  I  met  one  gentleman  in  the 
town.  I  think  he  belonged  to  the  sporting  fraternity. 
He  said,  '  Will  you  have  something  ? '  and  we  went  into 
a  place  kept  by  a  retired  prize-fighter.  My  friend 
pointed  to  a  noisy  party  at  the  rear  end  of  the  room, 
and  said:  'The  city  authorities/  'Should  they 
live  ?'  I  asked,  and  my  friend  said,  'They  should  not.' 
And  then  papa  was  in  town.  '  Make  me  a  sufficient 
inducement,'  said  I,  '  and  I  will  take  a  position  on  one 
of  your  newspapers  and  kill  them  off.  One  of  my 
specialties  is  the  killing  of  city  authorities.  Nature 
has  intended  them  for  my  meat.  I  have  killed  mayors 
in  nearly  every  place  that  is  worthy  of  the  name  of 
municipality ;  and  between  the  ordinary  city  official 
and  papa,'  I  added,  '  there  is  about  as  much  affinity  as 
there  is  between  a  case  of  hydrophobia  and  a  limpid 
trout  stream  trickling  its  way  through  the  woods  of  my 
native  Wisconsin.'  Say,  do  you  know  what  he  did  ? 
He  eyed  me  suspiciously  and  edged  off  toward  the  door. 
Oh,  it  is  painful  to  stand  by  helplessly  and  see  fate 
constantly  casting  my  lot  among  jays. " 

"  Mr.  Flummers,  do  you  think  that  you  would  recog- 
nize Kitty munks  if  you  were  to  see  him?"  Henry 
asked. 

"  Sure  thing.  Papa's  friends  may  deceive  him,  but 
his  eyes,  backed  by  his  judgment,  never  do.  Say,  I'm 
getting  up  a  great  scheme,  and  pretty  soon  I'm  going 


THE  COLOSSUS.  147 

to  travel  through  the  country  with  it.  I'm  going  to 
organize  an  investment  company  for  country  merchants. 
I've  already  got  about  fifteen  thousand  dollars'  worth  of 
stock  ready  to  issue.  Has  everybody  been  to  lunch  ?  I 
have  been  so  busy  that  I  haven't  eaten  anything  since 
early  this  morning.  Joe,  lend  me  fifty  cents." 

"And  take  a  mortage  on  your  investment  company?" 

"Oh,  ho,  ho,  that's  a  good  thing.  The  other  day 
one  of  your  so-called  literary  men  said  that  he  would 
give  me  two  dollars  an  hour  to  write  for  him  from 
dictation.  '  Ha,  I've  struck  a  soft  thing/  thinks  I, 
and  I  goes  to  his  den  with  him.  Well,  when  I  had 
worked  about  half  an  hour,  taking  down  his  guff,  he 
turns  to  me  and  says,  '  Say,  lend  me  a  dollar.'  '  I 
haven't  got  but  forty  cents,'  I  replied.  But  he  didn't 
weaken.  '  Well,  let  me  have  that,'  says  he.  '  You've 
got  A  job  and  I  haven't,  you  know.'  And  he  robbed 
me.  I've  got  to  go  out  now  and  see  a  business  jay  from 
Peoria.  With  my  newspaps:  ~7ork  and  my  side  specula- 
tions I'm  kept  pretty  busy.  Joe,  where's  that  fifty?" 

"  Gave  it  to  you  a  moment  ago." 

"All  right.  Say,  will  you  fellows  be  here  when  I 
come  back  ?  " 

"Not  if  we  can  get  out,"  Whittlesy  replied. 

"  Oh,  you've  bobbed  up  again,  have  you  ?  But 
remember  that  papa  holds  you  in  the  hollow  of  his 
hand." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

CRIED    A   SENSATION. 

IN  Chicago  was  a  sheet  —  it  could  not  be  called  a 
newspaper  and  assuredly  was  not  a  publication  — 
that  was  rarely  seen  until  late  at  night,  and  which 
always  appeared  to  have  been  smuggled  across  the 
border-line  of  darkness  into  the  light  of  the  street 
lamps.  Eagged  boys,  carrying  this  sheet,  hung  about 
the  theaters  and  cried  a  sensation  when  the  play  was 
done.  Their  aim  was  to  catch  strangers,  and  to  turn 
fiercely  upon  their  importunity  was  not  so  effective  as 
simply  to  say,  "I  live  here." 

One  night,  as  Henry  and  Ellen  came  out  of  a 
theater,  they  heard  these  ragged  boys  shouting  the 
names  of  "Witherspoon  and  Brooks. 

"Gracious,"  said  Ellen,  with  sudden  weight  on 
Henry's  arm,  "what  does  that  mean  ?" 

"It's  nothing  but  a  fake,"  he  answered. 

"  But  get  a  paper  and  see  ;  won't  you  ?  " 

"Yes,  as  soon  as  I  can." 

They  were  so  crowd-pressed  that  it  was  some  time 
before  they  could  reach  one  of  the  boys  ;  and  when  they 
did,  Ellen  snatched  a  paper  and  attempted  to  read  it  by 
the  light  of  the  carriage  lamp. 

"Wait  until  we  get  home,"  he  said.  "I  tell  you  it 
amounts  to  nothing." 

"No,  we  will  go  to  a  restaurant,"  she  replied; 


THE  COLOSSUS.  149 

The  sensation  was  a  half  column  of  frightening  head 
on  a  few  inches  of  smeared  body.  It  declared  that 
recent  developments  pointed  to  the  fact  that  "Wither- 
spoon  and  Brooks  knew  more  concerning  the  where- 
abouts of  Dave  Kittymunks  than  either  of  them  cared 
to  tell.  It  was  known  that  old  Colton's  extreme  con- 
servatism had  been  regarded  as  an  obstruction,  and 
that  while  they  might  not  actually  have  figured  in  the 
murder,  yet  they  were  known  to  be  pleased  at  the 
result,  that  the  large  reward  was  all  a  "bluff,"  and  that 
it  was  to  their  interest  to  aid  the  escape  of  Kitty- 
munks. 

Before  breakfast  the  next  morning  Brooks  was  at 
Witherspoon's  house.  A  "  friend"  had  called  his  atten- 
tion to  the  article.  Had  it  appeared  in  one  of  the 
reputable  journals  instead  of  in  this  fly-by-night 
smircher  of  the  characters  of  men,  a  suit  for  criminal 
libel  would  have  been  brought,  but  to  give  countenance 
to  this  slander  was  to  circulate  it ;  and  therefore  the 
two  men  were  resolved  not  to  permit  the  infamy 'to 
place  them  under  the  contribution  of  a  moment's 
worry. 

"  The  character  of  a  successful  man  is  a  target  to  be 
shot  at  by  the  envious,"  said  Witherspoon.  He  was 
pacing  the  room,  and  anger  had  hardened  his  step. 
"A  target  to  be  shot  at,"  he  repeated,  "and  the  shots 
are  free." 

"I  didn't  know  what  to  do,"  Brooks  replied.  He 
stood  on  the  hearth-rug  with  his  hands  behind  him.  "  I 
was  so  worried  that  I  couldn't  sleep  after  I  saw  the 
thing  late  last  night ;  and  my  wife  was  crying  when  I 
left  home." 

"  Infamous  scoundrels  !  "  Witherspoon  muttered. 


150  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"I  didn't  think  anything  could  be  done,"  Brooks 
continued,  "but  I  thought  it  best  to  see  you  at  once." 

"Of  course,"  said  Witherspoon. 

"  But,  after  all,  don't  you  think  we  ought  to  have 
those  wretches  locked  up  ?  "  Brooks  asked. 

"Yes,"  Witherspoon  answered,  "and  we  ought  to  have 
them  hanged,  but  we  might  as  well  set  out  to  look  for 
Kittymunks.  Ten  chances  to  one  they  are  not  here  at 
all ;  the  thing  might  have  been  printed  in  a  town  three 
hundred  miles  from  here." 

"  Yes,  that's  so,"  Brooks  admitted  ;  and  addressing 
Henry,  who  stood  at  a  window,  gazing  out,  he  added : 
"What. do  you  think  about  it  ?" 

Henry  did  not  heed  the  question,  so  forgetfully  was 
he  gazing,  and  Brooks  repeated  it. 

"If  you  have  decided  not  to  worry,"  Henry  answered, 
"  it  is  better  not  to  trouble  yourselves  at  all.  I  doubt 
whether  you  could  ever  find  the  publishers  of  the 
paper." 

"You  are  right,"  Brooks  agreed. 

"  Character  used  to  be  regarded  as  something  at  least 
half  way  sacred,"  said  Witherspoon,  "but  now,  like  an 
old  plug  hat,  it  is  kicked  about  the  streets.  And  yet  we 
boast  of  our  freedom.  Freedom,  indeed  !  So  would 
it  be  freedom  to  sit  at  a  window  and.  shoot  men  as  they 
pass.  I  swear  to  God  that  I  never  had  as  much  trouble 
and  worry  as  I've  had  lately.  Everything  goes  wrong. 
What  about  Jordway  &  Co.,  of  Aurora  ?" 

"Oh,  I  forgot  to  tell  you,"  Brooks  answered.  "Jord- 
way has  killed  himself,  and  the  affairs  of  the  firm  are  in 
a  hopeless  tangle." 

"Of  course,"  Witherspoon  replied,  "and  we'll  never 
get  a  cent." 


THE  COLOSSUS.  151 

"  I'm  afraid  not,  sir.  I  cautioned  yon  against  them, 
you  remember." 

"Xever  saw  anything  like  it,"  Witherspoon  declared, 
not  recalling  the  caution  that  Brooks  had  advised,  or 
not  caring  to  acknowledge  it. 

"  Oh,  everything  may  come  out  all  right.  Pardon 
me,  Mr.  Witherspoon,  but  I  think  you  need  res4  " 

"There  is  no  rest,"  Witherspoon  replied. 

"And  yet,"  said  Henry,  turning  from  the  window, 
"you  took  me  to  task  for  saying  that  I  sometimes  felt 
there  was  nothing  in  the  entire  scheme  of  life." 

"  For  saying  it  at  your  age,  yes.  You  have  but  just 
begun  to  try  life  and  have  no  right  to  condemn  it." 

"  I  didn't  condemn  it  without  a  hearing.  Isn't  there 
something  wrong  when  the  poor  are  wretched  and  the 
rich  are  miserable  ?  " 

"Xonsense,"  eaid  Witherspoon. 

"Oh,  but  that's  no  argument." 

"Isn't  it  ?    Well,  then  there  shall  be  none." 

"  I  must  be  getting  back,"  said  Brooks. 

"  Won't  you  stay  to  breakfast  ?  "  Witherspoon  asked. 
"  It  will  be  ready  in  a  few  minutes.  Hum  "  —  looking 
at  his  watch  — "  ought  to  have  been  ready  long  ago. 
Everything  goes  wrong.  Can't  even  get  anything  to 
eat.  I'll  swear  I  never  saw  the  like." 

"I'm  much  obliged,  but  I  can't  stay,"  Brooks 
answered. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  I  shall  be  down  to  the  store  some 
time  to-day.  If  anybody  calls  to  see  me,  just  say  that  I 
am  at  home,  standing  round  begging  for  something  to 
eat.  Good  morning." 

Henry  laughed,  and  the  merchant  gave  him  a  strained 
look.  For  a  moment'-  the  millionaire  bore  a  striking 


152  THE  COLOSSUS. 

likeness  to  old  Andrew,  at  the  time  when  he  declared 
that  the  devil  had  gone  wrong.  The  young  man  sought 
to  soothe  him  when  Brooks  was  gone ;  he  apologized 
for  laughing ;  he  said  that  he  keenly  felt  that  there 
was  cause  for  worry,  but  that  the  picture  of  a  Chicago 
merchant  standing  about  at  home  begging  for  his 
breakfa  t,  while  important  business  awaited  him  at  the 
store,  was  enough  to  crack  the  thickest  crust  of 
solemnity.  The  merchant's  dignity  was  soon  brought 
back  ;  never  was  it  far  beyond  his  reach.  At  breakfast 
he  was  severe  with  silence. 

Over  and  over  again  during  the  day  Henry  repeated 
Richmond's  words,  "  Whom  does  it  benefit  ?  "  and  these 
words  went  to  bed  with  him,  and  as  though  restless, 
they  turned  and  tossed  themselves  upon  his  mind 
throughout  the  night,  and  like  children,  they  clamored 
to  be  taken  up  at  early  morning,  to  be  dressed  in  the 
many  colors  of  supposition. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

A  HELPLESS  OLD   WOMAN. 

Kansas  City  was  arrested  a  suspicious-looking  man, 
who,  upon  being  taken  to  jail,  confessed  that  his 
name  was  Dave  Kittymunks  and  owned  that  he  had 
killed  old  man  Colton.  Thus  was  ended  the  search 
for  the  murderer,  the  newspapers  said,  and  the  vigil- 
ance of  the  Kansas  City  police  was  praised.  But 
it  soon  transpired  that  the  prisoner  had  been  a  street 
preacher  in  Topeka  at  the  time  when  the  murder  was 
committed,  that  he  had  on  that  day  created  a  sensation 
by  announcing  himself  John  the  Baptist  and  swearing 
that  all  other  Johns  the  Baptist  were  base  impostors. 
The  fellow  was  taken  to  an  asylum  for  the  insane,  and 
the  search  for  Dave  Kittymunks  was  resumed. 

Old  Mrs.  Colton  had  not  moved  a  muscle  since  the 
night  of  the  murder.  She  lay  looking  straight  at  the 
ceiling,  and  in  her  eyes  was  an  expression  that  seemed 
constantly  to  repeat,  "  My  body  is  dead,  but  my  mind  is 
alive,"  Once  every  week  the  pastor  of  her  church  came 
to  see  her.  He  was  an  old  man,  threatened  with  palsy, 
and  had  long  ago  ceased  to  find  pleasure  in  the  appetites 
and  vanities  of  this  life.  He  came  on  Sunday,  just  before 
the  time  for  evening  services  in  the  church,  and  kneel- 
ing at  the  old  woman's  chair,  which  he  placed  near  her 
bedside,  lifted  his  shaking  voice  in  prayer.  It  was  a 
touching  sight,  one  infirmity  pleading  for  another, 

153 


154  THE  COLOSSUS. 

palsy  praying  for  paralysis ;  but  upon  these  devotions 
Brooks  began  to  look  with  a  frown. 

"  "What  is  the  use  of  it  ? "  he  asked,  speaking  to  his 
wife.  "  If  a  celebrated  specialist  can't  do  her  any  good, 
I  know  that  an  old  man's  prayer  can't." 

"We  ought  not  to  deny  her  anything,"  the  wife 
answered. 

"And  we  ought  not  to  inflict  her  with  anything,"  the 
husband  replied. 

"Prayer  was  never  an  infliction  to  her." 

"But  this  old  man's  praying  is  an  infliction  to  the 
rest  of  us." 

"Not  to  me ;  and  you  needn't  hear  him." 

"I  can't  help  it  if  I'm  at  home." 

"But  you  needn't  be  at  home  when  he  comes." 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  I  could  go  over  and  stand  on  the  lake 
shore,  but  it  would  be  rather  unpleasant  this  time  of 
year." 

"There  are  other  places  you  can  go." 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  so.  Doesn't  make  any  difference  to 
you,  of  course,  where  I  go." 

"Not  much,"  she  answered. 

The  Witherspoon  family  was  gathered  one  evening  in 
the  mothers  room.  It  was  Mrs.  Witherspoon's  birth- 
day, and  it  was  a  home-like  picture,  this  family  group, 
with  the  mother  sitting  in  a  rocking-chair,  fondly  look- 
ing about  and  giving  the  placid  heed  of  love  to  Henry 
whenever  he  spoke.  On  the  walls  were  hung  the  por- 
traits of  early  Puritans,  the  brave  and  rugged  ancestors 
of  Uncle  Louis  and  Uncle  Harvey,  and  all  her  mother's 
people,  who  were  dark. 

Ellen  had  been  imitating  a  Miss  Miller,  who,  it  was 
said,  was  making  a  determined  set  at  Henry,  and  With- 


THE  COLOSSUS.  155 

erspoon  was  laughing  at  the  aptness  of  his  daughter's 
mimicry. 

"I  must  confess,"  said  Mrs.  Witherspoon,  slowly  rock- 
ing herself,  "that  I  don't  see  anything  to  laugh  at. 
Miss  Miller  is  an  exceedingly  nice  girl,  I'm  sure,  but  I 
don't  think  she  is  at  all  suited  to  my  son.  She 
giggles  at  everything,  and  Henry  is  too  sober-minded  for 
that  sort  of  a  wife. " 

"But  marriage  would  probably  cure  her  giggling," 
Witherspoon  replied,  slyly  winking  at  Henry.  "  To  a 
certain  kind  of  a  girl  there  is  nothing  that  so  inspires  a 
giggle  as  the  prospect  of  marriage,  but  marriage  itself 
is  the  greatest  of  all  soberers  —  it  sometimes  removes  all 
traces  of  the  previous  intoxication." 

"  Now,  George,  what  is  the  use  of  talking  that  way  ?  " 
She  rarely  called  him  George.  "  You  know  as  well  as 
you  know  anything  that  I  didn't  giggle.  Of  course  I 
was  lively  enough,  but  I  didn't  go  about  giggling  as  Miss 
Miller  does. " 

"  Oh,  perhaps  not  exactly  as  Miss  Miller  does,  but " 

"George!" 

"  I  say  you  didn't.  But  anybody  can  see  that  Ellen 
is  a  sensible  girl,  and  yet  she  giggles." 

"Not  at  the  prospect  of  maniage,  papa,"  the  girl 
replied.  "  To  look  at  Mr.  Brooks  and  his  wife  is  quite 
enough  to  make  me  serious." 

"  Brooks  and  his  wife  ?    What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  I  oughtn't  to  have  said  anything,  but  they 
appear  to  make  each  other  miserable.  There,  now,  I 
wish  I  hadn't  said  anything.  I  might  have  known  that 
it  would  make  you  look  glum. " 

"  How  do  you  know  that  they  make  each  other  mis- 
erable ?  " 


156  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"I  know  this,  that  when  they  should  be  on  their  good 
behavior  they  can't  keep  from  snapping  at  each  other. 
I  was  over  there  this  afternoon,  and  when  Mr.  Brooks 
came  home  he  began  to  growl  about  the  preacher's  com- 
ing once  a  week  to  pray  for  Mrs.  Colton.  He  ought  to 
be  ashamed  of  himself.  The  poor  old  creature  lies 
there  so  helpless ;  and  he  wants  to  deny  her  even  the 
consolation  of  hearing  her  pastor's  voice.  And  he 
knows  that  she  was  so  devoted  to  the  church." 

"My  daughter,"  Witherspoon  gravely  said,  "there 
must  be  some  mistake  about  this." 

"  But  I  know  that  there  isn't  any  mistake  about  it. 
I  was  there,  I  tell  you. " 

"And  still  there  may  be  some  mistake,"  Witherspoon 
insisted. 

"  What  doctor's  treating  the  old  lady  ? "  Henry 
asked. 

"A  celebrated  specialist,  Brooks  tells  me,"  Wither- 
spoon answered. 

"What's  his  name  ?" 

"I  don't  remember,"  said  Witherspoon.  "Do  you 
know,  Ellen?" 

"Doctor  Linmarck,"  Ellen  answered. 

"Let  us  not  think  of  anything  so  very  unpleasant," 
said  Mrs.  Witherspoon. 

But  the  spirit  of  pleasantry  was  flown.  With  another 
imitation  of  Miss  Miller,  Ellen  strove  to  call  it  back,  but 
failed,  for  Witherspoon  paid  no  attention  to  her.  He 
sat  brooding,  with  a  countenance  as  fixed  as  the  expres- 
sion of  a  mask,  and  in  his  gaze,  bent  on  that  nothing 
through  which  nothing  can  be  seen,  there  was  no  light. 

"Father,  do  your  new  slippers  fit?"  Mrs.  Wither- 
spoon asked.  He  was  not  George  now. 


THE  COLOSSUS.  157 

"Very  nicely,"  he  answered,  with  a  warning  absent- 
mindedness.  Presently  he  went  to  the  library,  and 
shutting  out  the  amenities  of  that  cheerful  evening, 
shut  in  his  own  somber  brooding. 

"I  don't  see  why  he  should  let  that  worry  him  so," 
said  Mrs.  Witherspoon.  "  He's  getting  to  be  so  sensi- 
tive over  Brooks." 

"I  don't  think  it's  his  sensitiveness  over  Brooks, 
mother,"  Ellen  replied,  "but  the  fact  that  he  is  gradiu 
ally  finding  out  that  Brooks  is  not  so  perfect  as  he  pre- 
tends to  be." 

"I  don't  know,"  the  mother  rejoined,  "but  I  think  he 
has  just  as  much  confidence  in  Brooks  as  he  ever  had. 
I  know  he  said  last  night  that  the  Colossus  couldn't  get 
along  without  him." 

"Ellen,"  said  Henry,  "what  is  the  name  of  that 
doctor  ?  " 

"  Linmarck.     It  isn't  so  hard  to  remember,  is  it  ?  " 

"No,  but  I  forgot  it." 

Immediately  after  reaching  the  office  the  next  day, 
Henry  sent  for  a  reporter  who  had  lived  so  long  in 
Chicago  that  he  was  supposed  thoroughly  to  know  the 
city. 

"Are  you  acquainted  with  Doctor  Linmarck?" 
Henry  asked  when  the  reporter  entered  the  room. 

"Linmarck  ?    Let  me  see.     No,  don't  think  I  am." 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  him  ?  " 

"  What's  his  particular  line  ?  " 

"Paralysis,  I  think." 

"No,  I've  never  heard  of  him." 

"Well,  find  out  all  you  can  about  him  and  let  me 
know  as  soon  as  possible.  And  say,"  he  added  as  the 
reporter  turned  to  go,  "don't  say  a  word  about  it." 


158  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"All  right." 

Several  hours  later  the  reporter  returned.  "  Did  yon 
learn  anything  ?  "  Henry  asked. 

"  Yes,  about  all  there  is  to  learn,  I  suppose.  He  has 
an  office  on  Wabash  Avenue,  near  Twelfth  Street.  I 
called  on  him." 

"  Does  he  look  like  a  great  specialist  ?  " 
"  Well,  his  beard  is  hardly  long  enough  for  a  great 
specialist. " 

"But  does  he  appear  to  be  prosperous  ?" 
"His  location  stands  against  that  supposition." 
"  But  does  he  strike  you  as  being  an  impostor  ?  " 
"  Well,  not  exactly  that ;  but  I  shouldn't  like  to  be 
paralyzed  merely  to  give  him  a  chance  to  try  his  hand 
on  me.  I  told  him  that  I  had  considerable  trouble 
with  my  left  arm,  and  he  asked  if  I  had  ever  been 
afflicted  with  rheumatism,  or  if  I  had  ever  been  stricken 
with  typhoid  fever,  or  —  I  don't  remember  how  many 
diseases  he  tried  on  suspicion.  I  told  him  that  so  far  as  I 
knew  I  had  been  in  excellent  health,  and  then  he  began 
to  ask  me  about  my  parents.  I  told  him  that  they 
were  dead  and  that  I  didn't  care  to  be  treated  for  any 
disease  that  they  might  have  had.  I  asked  him  where 
he  was  from,  and  he  said  Philadelphia.  He  hasn't  been 
here  long,  but  is  treating  some  very  prominent  people, 
he  says.  There  may  be  a  reason  why  he  should  be 
employed,  but  I  failed  to  find  it." 


CHAPTEK  XXII. 

TO  GO   GIST  A  VISIT. 

A  MONTH  must  have  passed  since  Henry  had 
4±  sought  to  investigate  the  standing  of  Dr.  Lin- 
marck,  when,  one  evening,  Ellen  astonished  her  father 
with  the  news  that  old  Mrs.  Colton  was  to  be  taken  on 
a  visit  to  her  sister,  who  lived  in  New  Jersey.  The 
sister  had  written  an  urgent  letter  to  Mrs.  Brooks, 
begging  that  the  old  lady  might  straightway  be  sent  to 
her,  and  offering  to  relieve  Mr.  Brooks  of  all  the  trouble 
and  responsibility  that  might  be  incurred  by  the 
journey.  She  would  send  her  son  and  her  family 
physician.  Witherspoon  grunted  at  so  absurd  a  request 
and  was  surprised  that  Brooks  should  grant  it.  The 
old  woman  might  die  on  the  train,  and  besides,  what 
possible  pleasure  could  she  extract  from  such  a  visit  ? 
It  was  nonsense. 

"  But  suppose  the  poor  old  creature  wants  to  go  ?  " 
said  Mrs.  "Witherspoon. 

"  Ah,  but  how  is  any  one  to  know  whether  she  does 
or  not  ?  " 

"  Of  course  no  one  can  tell  what  she  thinks,  but  it  is 
reasonable  to  suppose  that  she  would  like  to  see  her 
sister." 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  almost  anything 
when  you  start  out  on  that  line  ;  but  it's  not  common 
sense  to  act  upon  almost  any  supposition.  Of  course, 

159 


160  THE  COLOSSUS. 

the  old  lady  can  live  but  a  short  time,  and  I  think  that 
if  she  were  given  her  own  choice  she  would  prefer  to 
die  in  her  own  bed.  I  shall  advise  Brooks  not  to  let 
her  go." 

"  I  hope  you'll  not  do  that,"  said  Henry,  and  he  spoke 
with  an  eagerness  that  caused  the  merchant  to  give  him 
a  look  of  sharp  inquiry.  "  I  hope  that  you'll  not  seek 
to  deprive  the  sister,  who  I  presume  is  a  very  old 
woman,  of  the  pleasure  of  sheltering  one  so  closely 
related  to  her.  The  trip  may  be  fatal,  and  yet  it  might 
be  a  benefit.  At  any  rate  don't  advise  Brooks  not  to 
let  her  go." 

"Oh,  it's  nothing  to  me,"  Witherspoon  replied,  "and 
I  didn't  suppose  that  it  was  so  much  to  the  rest  of  you. 
How  I  do  miss  that  old  man  !  "  he  added  after  musing 
for  a  few  moments.  "  The  peculiar  laugh  he  had  when 
pleased  became  a  very  distressing  cough  whenever  he 
fancied  that  his  expenses  were  running  too  high,  and 
every  day  I  am  startled  by  some  noise  that  sounds  like 
his  hack,  hack  !  And  just  as  frequently  I  hear  his 
good-humored  ha,  ha  !  He  had  never  gone  away  during 
the  summer,  but  he  told  me  that  this  summer  he  was 
going  to  a  watering-place  and  enjoy  himself.  '  And, 
Witherspoon,'  he  said,  '  I'm  going  to  spend  money  right 
and  left.'  Picture  that  old  man  spending  money  either 
right  or  left.  He  would  have  backed  out  when  the 
time  came.  Some  demand  would  have  kept  him  at 
home." 

"His  will  leaves  everything  to  his  wife,  I  believe," 
Henry  remarked. 

"  Yes,  with  the  proviso  that  at  her  death  it  is  to  go  to 
Mrs.  Brooks.  Brooks  has  already  taken  Colton'.- 


THE  COLOSSUS.  161 

place  in  the  store,  and  now  the  question  is,  Who  can  fill 
Brooks'  place  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  you  will  have  any  trouble  in  filling 
it,"  Henry  replied.  "No  matter  who  drops  out,  the 
affairs  of  this  life  go  on  just  the  same.  A  man  becomes 
so  identified  with  a  business  that  people  think  it 
couldn't  be  run  without  him.  He  dies,  and  the  busi- 
ness — improves. " 

"Yes,  it  appears  so,"  Witherspoou  admitted;  "but 
what  I  wanted  to  get  at,  coming  straight  to  the  point, 
is  this  :  I  need  you  now  more  than  ever  before.  One 
of  the  penalties  of  wealth  is  that  a  rich  man  is  forced 
constantly  to  fumble  about  in  the  dark,  feeling  for 
some  one  whose  touch  may  inspire  confidence.  That's 
the  position  I'm  in." 

"You  make  a  strong  appeal,"  said  Henry,  "far 
stronger  than  any  personal  advantages  you  could  point 
out  to  me." 

"  But  is  it  strong  enough  to  move  you  ?  " 

"It  might-  be  strong  enough  to  move  me  to  a 
sacrifice  of  myself,  and  still  fail  to  draw  me  into  a  will- 
ingness to  risk  the  opinion  you  have  expressed  of  what 
you  term  my  manliness.  As  a  business  man  I  know 
that  I  should  be  a  failure,  and  then  I'd  have  your  pity 
instead  of  your  good  opinion.  Let  me  tell  you  that  I 
am  a  very  ordinary  man.  I  haven't  the  quickness 
which  is  a  business  man's  enterprise,  nor  that  judgment 
which  is  his  safeguard.  My  newspaper  is  a  success, 
but  it  is  mainly  because  I  have  a  capable  man  in  the 
business  office.  It  grieves  me  to  disappoint  you,  and  I 
will  take  an  oath  that  if  I  felt  myself  capable  Fd  cheer- 
fully give  up  journalism  and  place  myself  at  your 
service." 


162  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"Father,"  said  Mrs.  Witherspoon —  and  anxiously 
she  had  been  watching  her  husband — "I  don't  see 
what  more  he  conld  say." 

"He  has  said  quite  enough,"  Witherspoon  replied. 

"  But  you  are  not  angry,  are  you,  papa  ? "  Ellen 
asked. 

"No,  Fmhurt." 

"Fm  very  sorry,"  said  Henry,  "but  permit  me  to  say 
that  a  man  of  your  strength  of  mind  shouldn't  be  hurt 
by  a  present  disappointment  that  may  serve  to  prevent 
a  possible  calamity  in  the  future." 

"  High-sounding  nonsense.  I  could  pick  up  almost 
any  bootblack  and  make  a  good  business  man  of  him. " 

"  But  you  can't  pick  up  almost  any  boy  and  make  a 
good  bootblack  of  him.  The  bootblack  is  already  a 
business  man  in  embryo." 

Witherspoon  did  not  reply  to  this  statement.  He 
mused  for  a  few  moments  and  then  remarked :  "  If  it 
weren't  too  late  we  might  make  a  preacher  of  you." 

Mrs.  Witherspoon's  countenance  brightened.  "  I  am 
sure  he  would  make  a  good  one,"  she  said.  "  My  grand- 
father was  a  minister,  and  we  have  a  book  of  his  ser- 
mons now,  somewhere.  If  you  want  it,  my  son,  I  will 
get  it  for  you." 

"Not  to-night,  mother." 

"  I  didn't  mean  to-night.  Ellen,  what  are  you  gig- 
gling at  ?  " 

"  Why,  mother,  he  would  rather  smoke  that  old  black 
pipe  than  to  read  any  book  that  was  ever  printed." 

"  When  I  saw  the  pipe  that  had  robbed  Kittymunks  of 
his  coat,"  said  Henry,  "I  thought  of  my  pipe  tied  with 
a  ribbon." 


THE  COLOSSUS.  163 

During  the  remainder  of  the  evening  Witherspoon 
joined  not  in  the  conversation.  He  sat  brooding,  and 
when  bedtime  came,  he  stood  in  his  accustomed  place 
on  the  hearth-rug  and  wound  his  watch,  still  appearing 
to  gaze  at  something  far  away. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

HENRY'S  INCONSISTENCY. 

ONORTING  March  came  as  if  blown  in  off  the  icy 
^  lake,  and  oozy  April  fell  from  the  clouds.  How 
weary  we  grow  of  winter  in  a  cold  land,  and  how  loath 
is  winter  to  permit  the  coming  of  spring  !  May  stole 
in  from  the  south.  There  came  a  warm  rain,  and  the 
next  morning  strips  of  green  were  stretched  along  the 
boulevards. 

Nature  had  unrolled  double  widths  of  carpet  during 
the  night,  and  at  sunset  a  yellow  button  lay  where 
the  ground  had  been  harsh  so  long  —  a  dandelion. 
An  old  man,  in  whom  this  blithe  air  stirred  a  recol- 
lection of  an  amative  past,  sat  on  a  bench  in  the 
park,  watching  the  flirtations  of  thrill-blooded  youth, 
and  pale  mothers,  housed  so  long  with  fretful  children, 
turned  loose  their  cares  upon  the  grass.  It  was  a 
lolling-time,  a  time  to  lose  one's  self  in  the  blue  above, 
or  sweetly  muse  over  the  green  below. 

One  night  a  hot  wind  came,  and  the  next  morning 
was  summer.  The  horse  that  had  drawn  coal  during 
the  winter,  now  hitched  to  an  ice  wagon,  died  in  the 
street.  The  pavements  throbbed,  the  basement  restau- 
rants exhaled  a  sickening  air,  and  through  the  grating 
was  blown  the  cellar's  cool  and  mouldy  breath;  and 
the  sanitary  writer  on  the  editorial  page  cried  out: 
"  Boil  your  drinking-water  ! " 


THE  COLOSSUS.  165 

It  was  Withcrspoon's  custom,  during  the  heated 
term,  to  take  his  wife  and  his  daughter  to  the  seaside,  and 
to  return  when  the  weather  there  became  insufferably 
hot.  It  was  supposed  that  Henry  would  go,  but  when 
the  time  came  he  declared  that  he  had  in  view  a  piece 
of  work  that  must  not  be  neglected.  AVitherspoon 
recognized  the  urgency  of  no  work  except  his  own. 
"  What,  you  can't  go  ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  What  do  you 
mean  by  '  can't  go '  ?  " 

"  I  mean  simply  that  it  is  not  convenient  for  me  to 
get  away  at  this  time." 

"  And  is  it  your  scheme  now  to  act  entirely  upon  your 
own  convenience  ?  Can't  you  sometimes  pull  far 
enough  away  from  yourself  to  forget  your  own  con- 
venience ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  but  I  can't  very  well  forget  that  on  this 
occasion  it  is  almost  impossible  for  me  to  get  away.  Of 
course  you  don't  understand  this,  and  I  am  afraid  that 
if  I  should  try  I  couldn't  make  it  very  clear  to  you." 

"Oh,  you  needn't  make  any  explanation  to  me,  I 
assure  you.  I  had  planned  an  enjoyment  for  your 
mother  and  sister,  and  if  you  desire  to  interfere  with 
it,  I  have  nothing  more  to  say." 

"I  have  no  business  that  shall  interfere  with  their 
enjoyment,"  Henry  replied.  "I'm  ready  to  go  at  any 
time." 

The  next  day  Witherspoon  said  :  "  Henry,  if  you 
have  decided  to  go,  there  is  no  use  of  my  leaving 
home." 

"Now  there's  no  need  of  all  this  sacrifice,"  Mrs. 
Witherspoon  protested,  "for  the  truth  is  I  don't  want 
to  go  anyway.  During  the  hot  weather  I  am  never  so 
comfortable  anywhere  as  I  am  at  home.  My  son,  you 


166  THE  COLOSSUS. 

shall  not  go  on  my  account ;  and  as  for  Ellen,  she  can 
go  with  some  of  our  friends.  But,  father,  I  do  think 
that  you  need  rest. " 

"Very  true,"  he  admitted,  "but  unfortunately  we 
can't  drop  a  worry  and  run  away  from  it." 

"But  what  is  worrying  you  now?" 

"Everything.  Kothing  goes  on  as  it  should,  and 
every  day  it  seems  that  a  new  annoyance  takes  hold  of 
me." 

"  In  your  time  you  have  advised  many  a  man  to  be 
sensible,"  said  Henry,  "and  now  if  you  please,  permit 
a  man  who  has  never  been  very  sensible  to  advise  you." 
Witherspoon  looked  at  him.  "My  advice  is,  be  sen- 
sible." 

In  a  fretful  resentment  Witherspoon  jerked  his 
shoulder  as  if  with  muscular  force  he  sought  a  befitting 
reply,  but  he  said  nothing  and  Henry  continued : 
"  This  may  be  impudence  on  my  part,  but  in  impudence 
there  may  lie  a  good  intention  and  a  piece  of  advice 
that  may  not  be  bad.  The  worry  of  a  strong  man  is  a 
sign  of  danger.  The  truth  is  that  if  you  keep  on  this 
way  you'll  break  down." 

"Xone  of  you  know  what  you  are  talking  about," 
Witherspoon  declared.  "  I'm  as  strong  as  I  ever  was. 
I'm  simply  annoyed,  that's  all." 

"  Why  don't  you  see  the  doctor  ?  "  his  wife  asked. 

"  What  do  I  want  to  see  him  for  ?  What  does  he 
know  about  it  ?  Don't  you  worry.  I'm  all  right." 

His  fretfulness  was  not  continuous.  Sometimes  his 
spirits  rose  to  exceeding  liveliness,  and  then  he  laughed 
at  the  young  man  and  joked  him  about  Miss  Miller. 
But  a  single  word,  however  lightly  spoken,  served  to 
turn  him  back  to  peevishness.  One  evening  Henry 


THE  COLOSSUS.  167 

remarked  that  he  was  compelled  to  leave  town  on  the 
day  following  and  that  he  might  be  absent  nearly  a 
week. 

"  Why,  how  is  this  ? "  Witherspoon  asked,  with  a 
sudden  change  of  manner.  "The  other  day  you  almost 
swore  that  it  was  impossible  for  yon  to  leave  home,  and 
now  yon  are  compelled  to  go.  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"I  have  business  out  of  town,  and  it  demands  my 
attention." 

"  Business  out  of  town.  The  other  day  you  despised 
business ;  now  you've  got  business  out  of  town.  I'll 
take  an  oath  right  now  that  you  are  the  strangest  mor- 
tal I  ever  struck." 

"I  admit  the  appearance  of  inconsistency,"  Henry 
replied. 

"And  I  know  the  existence  of  it,"  Witherspoon 
rejoined. 

"  You  think  so.  The  truth  is  that  the  affair  I  now 
have  on  hand  had  something  to  do  with  my  objecting 
to  leave  town  last  week." 

"  Why  don't  you  tell  me  what  it  is  ?  " 

"I  will  when  the  time  is  ripe." 

The  merchant  grunted.     "Is  it  a  love  affair  ?" 

Mrs.  Witherspoon  became  newly  concerned.  "In 
one  sense,  yes,"  Henry  answered.  "It  is  the  love  of 
justice." 

Witherspoon  called  his  wife's  attention  by  clearing 
his  throat.  "  Madam,  I  may  be  wrong,  but  it  strikes 
me  that  your  son  is  crazy.  Good  night." 

Henry  left  town  the  next  morning.  He  went  to  New 
Jersey. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

WORE   A    ROSE   OK   HIS  COAT. 

HENRY  was  absent  nearly  a  week,  and  upon  return- 
ing he  did  not  refer  to  the  business  that  had  so 
peremptorily  called  him  away.  3Irs.  AVitherspoon  still 
had  a  fear  that  it  might  be  a  love  affair,  and  Ellen  had 
a  fear  that  it  might  not  be.  To  keep  the  young 
woman's  interest  alive  a  mystery  was  necessary,  and 
to  free  the  mother's  love  from  anxiety  unrestrained 
frankness  was  essential.  And  so  there  was  not  enough 
of  mystery  to  thrill  the  girl  nor  enough  of  frankness  to 
satisfy  the  mother.  In  this  way  a  week  was  passed. 

"I  don't  see  why  you  make  so  much  of  it,"  Wither- 
epoon  said  to  his  wife.  "  Is  there  anything  so  strange 
in  a  young  man's  leaving  town  ?  Do  you  expect  him  to 
remain  forever  within  calling  distance  ?  He  told  you 
that  you  should  know  in  due  time.  What  more  can 
you  ask  ?  You  are  foolishly  worried  over  him,  and 
what  is  there  to  worry  about  ?  " 

"I  suppose  I  am,"  she  answered,  "but  I'm  so  much 
afraid  that  he'll  marry  some  girl  that  I  shall  not 
like." 

"  It's  not  only  that,  Caroline.  You  are  simply  afraid 
that  he  will  marry  some  girl.  The  fear  of  not  liking 
her  is  a  secondary  anxiety." 

"  But,  father,  you  know  " 

"Oh,  yes,  I  know.  But  he  is  a  man — presumably," 
he  added  to  himself — "and  your  love  cannot  make  him 

1 68 


THE  COLOSSUS.  169 

a  child.  It  is  true  that  we  were  robbed  of  the  pleasure 
his  infancy  would  have  afforded  us,  but  it's  not  true  that 
there  now  exists  any  way  by  which  that  lost  pleasure 
can  be  supplied.  As  for  myself,  I  regret  the  necessity 
that  compels  me  to  say  that  he  is  far  from  being  a  com- 
fort to  me.  What  has  he  brought  me  ?  Nothing  but 
an  additional  cause  for  worry." 

"Father,  don't  say  that !" 

"  But  I  am  compelled  to  say  it.  I  have  pointed  out  a 
career  to  him  and  he  simply  bats  his  eyes  at  it.  He  is 
the  most  peculiar  creature  I  ever  saw.  Oh,  I  know  he 
has  gone  through  enough  to  make  him  peculiar ;  1 
know  all  about  that,  but  I  don't  see  the  sense  of  keep- 
ing up  that  peculiarity.  He  is  aimless,  and  he  doesn't 
want  an  aim  urged  upon  him." 

"But,  father,  he  has  made  his  newspaper  a  success." 

"Ah,  but  what  does  it  amount  to  ?  Within  ten  years 
he  might  make  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  out  of  it, 
but" 

"Oh,  surely  more  than  that,"  she  insisted. 

"  Well,  suppose  he  does  make  more  than  that ;  say 
bhat  he  may  make  two  hundred  thousand.  And  even 
then  what  does  it  amount  to  in  comparison  with  what  I 
offer  ?  " 

"But  you  know  he  wants  to  be  independent." 

"  Independent ! "  he  repeated.  "  I'll  swear  I  don't 
understand  that  sort  of  independence." 

"Well,"  she  said,  with  a  consoling  sigh,  "it  will  come 
out  all  right  after  a  while." 

They  were  sitting  in  Mrs.  Witherspoon's  room.  The 
footman  announced  that  Mr.  Brooks  was  waiting  in  the 
library.  Witherspoon  frowned. 

"You  needn't  see  him,  dear,"  said  his  wife. 


170  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"  Yes,  I  will.  But  I  am  tired  and  don't  care  to  dis- 
cuss business  affairs.  Of  late  he  brings  nothing  but 
bad  news." 

The  manager  was  exquisitely  dressed  and  wore  a  rose 
on  the  lapel  of  his  coat.  "  I  am  on  my  way  to  an  enter- 
tainment at  the  Yacht  Club,"  said  he,  when  the 
merchant  entered  the  library,  "  and  I  thought  I'd  drop 
in  for  a  few  moments." 

"I'm  glad  you  did,"  Witherspoon  replied.  "Sit 
down." 

"I  haven't  long  to  stay,"  said  Brooks,  seating  himself. 
"  I  am  on  one  of  the  committees  and  must  be  getting 
over.  Is  your  son  going  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.     He  hasn't  come  home  yet. " 

"He  was  invited,"  said  Brooks. 

"That  doesn't  make  any  difference,"  Witherspoon 
replied.  "  He  appears  to  pay  but  little  attention  to  invi- 
tations, or  to  anything  else,  for  that  matter.  Spends  the 
most  of  his  time  at  the  Press  Club,  I  think." 

"That's  singular." 

"Very,"  said  Witherspoon. 

"  I  was  there  the  evening  they  gave  a  reception  to 
Patti,  some  time  ago,"  Brooks  remarked,  "but  I  didn't 
see  anything  so  very  attractive  about  the  place." 

"I  suppose  not,"  Witherspoon  replied,  and  then  he 
added  :  "That's  Henry  now,  I  think." 

Henry  came  in  and  was  apparently  surprised  to  see 
Brooks.  "I  have  been  detained  on  account  of  busi- 
ness," he  remarked  as  he  sat  down.  Brooks  smiled. 
Evidently  he  knew  what  was  passing  in  Witherspoon's 
mind. 

"My  affairs  may  be  light  to  some  people,"  Henry 
said,  "but  they  are  heavy  enough  to  me." 


THE  COLOSSUS.  171 

By  looking  serious  Brooks  sought  to  mollify  the 
effect  of  his  smile.  He  had  not  taken  the  time  to  think 
that  in  his  sly  currying  of  Witherspoon's  favor  he 
might  be  discovered,  but  now  that  he  was  caught  he 
fell  back  upon  the  recourse  of  a  bungling  compliment. 
"Oh,  I'm  sure,"  said  he,  "that  your  business  is  mosi 
important.  Your  paper  shows  the  care  and  ability  with 
which  you  preside  over  it.  I  think  it's  the  best  paper 
in  town,  and  advertisers  tell  me  that  they  get  excellent 
returns  from  it."  Here  he  caught  Witherspoon's  eye 
and  hastened  to  add  :  "  Still,  I  believe  that  your  place 
is  with  us  in  the  store.  You  could  soon  make  yourself 
master  of  every  detail." 

"But  we  will  not  talk  about  that  now,"  Witherspoon 
spoke  up. 

"  Of  course  not ;  but  I  merely  mentioned  it  to  show 
my  belief  in  your  son's  abilities." 

The  footman  appeared  at  the  door.  "  Two  gentle- 
men wish  to  see  Mr.  Brooks." 

"  Who  are  they  ?  "  AVitherspoon  asked. 

"Wouldn't  give  me  their  names,  sir." 

"  Some  of  the  boys  from  the  club,"  said  Brooks. 
"Well,  I  must  bid  you  good  evening." 

"There  was  something  I  wanted  to  say  to  you,"  the 
merchant  remarked,  walking  down  the  hall  with  him. 

Henry  did  not  get  up,  but  he  listened  eagerly.  Pres- 
ently he  heard  Witherspoon  exclaim  :  "  Great  God  ! " 
And  a  moment  later  the  merchant  came  rushing  back. 

"  Where  is  my  hat  ?  "  he  cried.  "  Henry,  Brooks  is 
arrested  on  a  charge  of  murdering  Colton  !  Where  is 
my  hat  ?" 

Henry  got  up,  placed  his  hand  on  Witherspoon's 
shoulder,  and  said  :  "Sit  down  here,  father." 


172  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"Sit  down  the  devil  !  "  he  raved.  "I  tell  you  that 
Brooks  has  been  arrested.  I  am  going  down-town. " 

"Not  to-night.     Sit  down  here." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir  !  " 

"I  mean  that  you  must  not  go  down-town.  You 
can  do  no  good  by  going,  Brooks  is  guilty.  There  is 
no  doubt  about  it." 

The  old  man  dropped  in  his  chair.  Mrs.  Witherspoon 
came  running  into  the  room.  "What  on  earth  is  the 
matter  ? "  she  cried.  Witherspoon  struggled  to  his 
feet.  Henry  caught  him  by  the  arm.  "  Mother,  don't 
be  alarmed.  Brooks  has  simply  been  arrested." 

"  For  the  murder  of  Colton  !  "  Witherspoon  hoarsely 
whispered.  His  voice  had  failed  him. 

"  Sit  down,  mother,  and  we  will  talk  quietly  about  it. 
There  is  no  cause  for  excitement  when  you  make  up 
your  minds  that  the  fellow  is  guilty,  which  you  must  do, 
for  Mrs.  Colton  has  made  a  statement — she  saw  Brooks 
kill  the  old  man." 

Witherspoon  dropped  in  his  chair.  His  hands  hung 
listlessly  beside  him.  Mrs.  Witherspoon  ran  to  him. 

"Father!" 

He  lifted  his  hand,  a  heavy  weight  it  seemed,  and 
motioned  her  away.  "The  Colossus  is  ruined  !"  he 
hoarsely  whispered.  "Kuined.  They'll  try  to  mix  me 
up  in  it.  Ruined  !  " 

"  You  can't  be  mixed  up  in  it,  and  the  Colossus  will 
not  be  ruined,"  Henry  replied. 

"Yes,  ruined.  You  haven't  brought  me  anything 
but  bad  lack." 

"  I  have  brought  you  the  best  luck  of  your  life.  I 
have  helped  you  to  get  rid  of  a  vampire. " 


THE  COLOSSUS.  173 

"  You  have  ? "  He  turned  his  lusterless  eyes  upon 
Henry. 

"  Yes,  I  have,  and  if  you  wir  be  patient  for  a  few 
moments  I  will  make  it  plain  to  you.  But  wait,  you 
must  not  think  of  going  down-town  to-night.  Will 
you  listen  to  me  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  I  was  not  the  only  one  who  suspected  that  Brooks 
had  something  to  do  with  the  murder.  Many  people, 
ia  fact — it  seemed  that  almost  everybody  placed  him 
under  suspicion.  But  there  was  no  evidence  against 
him ;  there  was  nothing  but  a  strong  supposition. 
You  remember  one  evening  not  long  ago  when  Ellen 
said  that  he  objected  to  the  preacher's  coming  to  pray 
for  Mrs.  Colton.  This  was  enough  to  stamp  him  a 
brute.  Give  that  sort  of  a  man  the  nerve  and  he  won't 
stop  short  of  any  cruelty  or  any  crime." 

"Are  you  going  to  tell  me  something  or  do  you 
simply  intend  to  preach?"  Witherspoon  asked.  His 
voice  had  returned. 

"Father,  he's  telling  you  as  fast  as  he  can." 

"And  I  must  tell  it  my  own  way,"  Henry  said. 
"  That  same  evening  I  learned  the  name  of  the  doctor — 
the  great  specialist  employed  by  Brooks  to  treat  the  old 
lady.  But  I  inquired  about  him  and  found  that  he  was 
simply  a  cheap  quack.  This  was  additional  cause  for 
suspicion.  I  called  on  a  detective  and  told  him  that 
1  suspected  Brooks.  At  this  he  smiled.  Then  I  said 
that  if  he  would  agree  to  give  half  the  reward  to  any 
charity  that  I  might  name,  in  the  event  of  success,  I 
would  submit  my  plan,  and  then  he  became  serious.  I 
convinced  him  that  I  had  not  only  a  plausible  but  a 
direct  clue,  and  he  agreed  to  my  proposal.  I  then  told 


174  THE  COLOSSUS. 

him  about  the  doctor  ;  I  expressed  my  belief  that  the 
old  woman  must  know  something  and  urged  that  this 
might  be  brought  out  if  we  could  get  her  away  and 
place  her  under  the  proper  treatment.  Well,  we 
learned  that  she  had  a  sister  living  in  New  Jersey. 
The  detective  went  to  see  her,  and  you  know  the  result 
—  the  old  lady's  removal.  Recently  we  received  word 
that  she  was  so  much  improved  that  she  could  mumble 
in  a  way  to  be  understood,  and  last  week  the  detective 
and  I  went  to  see  her.  This  was  my  apparently  incon- 
sistent business  out  of  town." 

"But  tell  us  what  she  said,"  Witherspoon  demanded. 

"Her  deposition  is  in  the  hands  of  the  law."  He 
said  this  with  a  sly  pleasure  —  Witherspoon  had  so  often 
spoken  of  the  law  as  if  it  were  his  agent.  "I  can 
simply  tell  you,"  Henry  continued,  "that  she  saw 
Brooks  when  he  shot  the  old  man." 

"But  how  can  that  be?  Brooks  and  his  wife  ran 
into  the  room  at  the  same  time.  They  were  together." 

"Yes,  they  ran  into  the  room  together,  and  Brooks 
had  presumably  just  jumped  out  of  bed.  But  be  that 
as  it  may,  Mrs.  Colton  saw  him  when  he  shot  the  old 
man.  And  if  he  is  guilty,  why  should  you  defend 
him?" 

Witherspoon  got  up.  "You  are  not  going  down- 
town, father,"  his  wife  pleaded.  "George,  you  must 
not  go ! " 

"Fm  not  going,  Caroline."  He  began  to  walk  up 
and  down  the  room,  but  not  with  his  wonted  firmness 
of  step.  They  said  nothing  to  him  ;  they  let  him  walk 
in  his  troubled  silence.  Turning  suddenly  he  would 
sometimes  confront  Henry  and  seem  about  to  denounce 
him ;  and  then  he  was  strong.  But  the  next  moment, 


THE  COLOSSUS.  174 

and  as  if  weakened  by  an  instantaneous  failure  of  vital 
forces,  he  would  helplessly  turn  to  his  wife  as  though 
she  could  give  him  strength. 

"Don't  let  it  worry  you  so,  father,"  she  begged  of 
him  ;  "  don't  let  it  worry  you  so.  It  will  come  out  all 
vight.  Nobody  can  fasten  any  blame  on  you." 

"Yes,  they  will — yes,  they  will,  the  wretches.  They 
hate  me ;  they  bleed  me  every  chance  they  get,  and  now 
they  want  to  humble  me  —  ruin  me.  Nobody  can  ever 
know  what  I  have  gone  through.  Defend  him  !  "  he 
exclaimed.  "  I  hope  they  will  hang  him.  I  suspected 
him,  and  yet  I  was  afraid  to,  for  in  some  way  it  seemed 
to  involve  me  —  I  don't  know  how.  But  I  knew  that  the 
wretches  would  fix  it  up  and  ruin  the  Colossus.  For 
weeks  and  weeks  it  has  been  gnawing  me  like  a  rat. 
But  what  could  I  do  ?  I  was  afraid  to  discharge  him. 
He's  got  a  running  tongue.  But  what  have  I  done  ?  " 
he  violently  asked  himself.  "He  took  Colton's  place — 
held  Colton's  interest.  I  could  do  nothing.  Some- 
times I  felt  that  he  was  surely  innocent.  But  I  fancied 
that  I  could  hear  mutterings  whenever  I  passed  people 
in  the  street,  and  the  rat  would  begin  ibs  gnawing 
again.  He  will  drag  us  all  down."  His  voice  failed 
him,  and  he  sank  in  his  chair.  "  Ruined  !  The  Colossus 
is  ruined  ! "  he  hoarsely  whispered. 

"If  you  would  stop  to  think,"  said  Henry,  "you 
would  know  that  your  trouble  is  mostly  physical.  Your 
nerves  are  unstrung.  The  public  is  not  so  willing  to 
believe  any  story  that  Brooks  may  tell.  The  Colossus 
will  not  be  injured.  But  I  know  that  you  place  very 
little  faith  in  what  I  say."  The  merchant  looked  at 
him.  "  But  mark  my  words  :  Your  standing  will  not 
be  lowered  —  the  Colossus  will  not  show  any  ill  effect. 


176  TEE  COLOSSUS. 

It  is  too  big  a  concern  to  be  thus  mined.  People  trade 
there  for  bargains,  and  not  out  of  sentiment.  In  a  short 
time  Brooks  will  be  forgotten.  It  is  perfectly  clear 
to  me." 

"  Is  it  ?  "  he  asked,  with  eagerness.  "  Is  it  clear  to 
you?" 

"Yes,  perfectly." 

"  Then  make  it  clear  to  me.  You  can't  do  it,  don't 
you  see  ?  You  can't  do  it." 

"Yes,  he  can,  father;  yes,  he  can,"  Mrs.  Wither- 
spoon  pleaded.  "  It  is  perfectly  clear  to  me.  You  will 
look  at  rt  differently  to-morrow.  Come,  now,  and  lie 
down.  S'eep  will  make  it  clear.  Come  on,  now." 

She  too  k  hold  of  his  arm.  With  a  helpless  trust  he 
looked  U;j  at  her.  "Come  on,  now."  He  lifted  his 
heavy  bauds,  got  up  with  difficulty  and  suffered  her  to 
lead  Mir  away. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

IMPATIENTLY  WAITING. 

WHILK  it  was  yet  dark,  and  long  before  the  dimply 
lake  had  caught  a  glint  from  the  coming  sun, 
Witherspoon  asked  for  the  morning  papers.  At  brief 
periods  of  troubled  sleep  during  the  night  he  had  fan- 
cied that  he  was  reading  of  the  wreck  of  the  Colossus 
and  of  his  own  disgrace  ;  <md  when  he  was  told  that 
the  papers  had  not  come,  that  it  was  100  early  for  them, 
lie  said:  "Don't  try  to  keep  them  back.  I  am  pre- 
pared." He  wanted  to  get  up  and  put  on  his  clothes, 
but  his  wife  begged  him  to  remain  in  bed. 

"  Was  the  doctor  here  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Yes,  don't  you  remember  telling  him  that  Brooks 
had  been  arrested  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  remember  anything  but  a  bad  taste  in 
,ny  mouth.  I  know  him  ;  he  leaves  a  bad  taste  as  his 
visiting-card.  What  did  he  say  ?  Wasn't  he  delighted 
to  have  a  chance  at  me  ?  " 

"  He  said  that  if  you  keep  quiet  you  will  be  all  right 
in  a  day  or  two." 

"  Did  anybody  else  come  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  think  so." 

"  Reporters  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Yes,  I  think  so ;  but  Henry  saw  them." 

"  Hum !  I  suppose  he  will  be  known  now  as  Wither* 
spoon  the  detective." 

•»  «77 


in  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"No;  the  part  h«  took  will  be  kept  a  profound 
secret." 

"I  hope  so ;  but  don't  you  think  he  would  rather  be 
known  as  some  sort  of  freak  ?  " 

"No,  dear.     You  do  him  an  injustice." 

"But  does  he  do  me  a  jtistice?  He's  got  to  pay  back 
every  cent  I  advanced  on  that  newspaper  deal." 

"  We  will  attend  to  that,  father." 

"  We  will.     You  are  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  it." 

"I  mean  that  he  will." 

"  That's  different.  I'll  take  the  thing  away  from  him 
the  first  thing  he  knows.  I'm  tired  of  his  browbeating. 
Isn't  it  time  for  those  papers  ?  " 

"Not  quite." 

"  Have  they  stopped  printing  them  ?  Are  they  hold- 
ing back  just  to  worry  me  now  that  they've  got  me 
down  ?  Where's  Henry  ?  " 

"  He  has  just  gone  out  to  wait  for  the  carrier-boy. 
He's  coming  now,  I  think." 

•  Henry  came  in  with  the  morning  papers.  "  What  do 
they  say  ? "  Witherspoon  eagerly  asked.  He  flounced 
up,  and  drawing  the  covers  about  him,  sat  on  the  edge 
of  the  bed. 

"I'll  see,"  Henry  answered. 

"But  be  quick  about  it.  Great  goedaess,  I  can't 
wait  all  day." 

"There's  so  much  that  I  can't  tell  it  in  a  breath." 

"  But  can't  you  give  me  the  gist  of  it  ?  Call  yourself 
a  newspaper  man  and  can't  get  at  the  gist  of  a  thing." 

"  Be  patient  a  moment  and  I  will  read  to  you." 

During  more  than  an  hour  Witherspoon  sat,  listen- 
ing ;  and  wli3n  the  last  paper  had  been  disposed  cf,  he 
said  :  "  Why,  that  isn't  so  bad.  They  don't  mix  me 


THE  COLOSSUS.  179 

up  in  it  after  all.  What  was  that  ?  Brooks  seems  to 
be  wavering  and  may  make  a  confession  ?  But  what 
will  he  say  ?  That's  the  question.  What  will  he 
say  ?  " 

"  How  can  he  say  anything  to  hurt  you  ? "  Mrs. 
Witherspoon  asked. 

"  He  can't  if  he  sticks  to  the  truth.  But  will  he  ?  He 
may  want  to  ruin  the  Colossus.  I  will  not  go  near  him. 
They  may  hang  him  and  let  him  rot.  I  will  not  go 
near  him.  The  truth  is,  I  have  been  afraid  of  him. 
The  best  of  us  have  cause  to  fear  the  man  we  have 
placed  too  much  confidence  in.  Caroline,  I'll  get  up." 

"  Not  now,  father.  The  doctor  said  you  must  not  get 
up  to-day." 

"  But  does  he  suppose  I'm  going  to  lie  here  and  let 
the  Colossus  run  wild  ?  Got  nobody  to  help  me ; 
nobody. " 

"  I  will  go  down  this  morning  and  see  that  everything 
starts  off  all  right,"  said  Henry. 

"  You  will  ?  What  do  you  know  about  it  ?  You 
could  have  known  all  about  it,  but  what  do  you  know 
now  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  that  the  heads  of  the  departments 
understand  their  business ;  and  I  hope  that  I  can  at 
least  represent  you  for  a  short  time." 

"  For  a  short  time  ?  Oh,  yes,  a  short  time  suits  you 
exactly.  Ellen  could  do  that,  and  I'd  send  her  if  she. 
were  at  home."  Tae  girl  was  at  Lake  Geneva.  "  Think 
you  can  go  down  and  say,  '  Wish  you  would  open  this 
door  if  you  please '  ?  Think  yon  can  do  that  ?  " 

The  mother  put  up  her  hands  as  though  she  would 
protect  her  son  against  the  merchant's  feelingless  re- 
proach. For  a  time  Henry  sat  looking  hard  in  Wither- 


180  THE  COLOSSUS. 

spoon's  blood-shot  eyes ;  and  a  thought,  hot  and  anger- 
edged,,  strove  for  utterance,  but  an  appealing  gesture, 
a  look  from  that  gentle  woman,  turned  his  resentment 
into  these  consoling  words,  "  Don't  worry.  I  think  I 
know  my  duty  when  it's  put  before  me.  The  Colossus 
shall  not  suffer." 

How  tenderly  she  looked  at  him.  She  made  a  mag- 
nanimity of  the  cooling  of  his  resentment  and  she  gave 
him  that  sacred  reward  —  a  mother's  gratefulness. 

"All  right,"  said  the  merchant.  "Do  the  best  you 
can." 

His  quick  discernment  had  caught  the  play  between 
Henry  and  Mrs.  AVitherspoou.  "Of  course  I  don't 
expect  you  to  take  my  place.  I  want  you  merely  to 
show  that  the  "Witherspoon  family  hasn't  run  away." 

The  doctor  called  and  found  his  patient  much  im- 
proved. "A  little  rest  is  all  you  need  to  bring  you 
about  again,"  the  physician  said.  "Your  unsettled 
nerves  have  made  you  morbid.  Don't  worry.  Every- 
thing will  be  all  right." 

The  newspaper  reports  of  the  arrest  of  Brooks, 
although  they  proceeded  to  arraign  and  condemn  him, 
had  on  Witherspoon's  nervous  system  more  of  a  reton- 
ing  effect  than  could  have  been  brought  about  by  a 
doctor's  skill.  That  Brooks  might  be  guilty,  had  not 
been,  the  merchant's  fear ;  but  that  he  himself  might 
in  some  way  be  implicated,  had  been  his  morbid  dread. 
Now  he  could  begin  to  recognize  the  truth  that  with  s 
black  beast  of  his  own  creation  he  had  frightened  him- 
self ;  and  he  laughed  with  a  nervous  shudder.  But 
when  the  doctor  was  gone  he  again  became  anxious. 

"  Caroline,  didn't  he  ask  if  there  had  ever  been  any 
insanity  in  my  family?  " 


THE  COLOSSUS.  181 

"Why,  no  ;  he  didn't  hint  at  such  a  thing." 

"  I  must  have  dreamed  it,  then.  But  what  makes  me 
dream  such  strange  things  ?  I  thought  you  told  him 
that  my  father  had  been  a  little  off  at  times.  Didn't 
you  ?  " 

"Why,  of  course  not.  You  never  told  me  that 
there  was  ever  anything  wrong  with  your  father,  and 
even  if  there  was  how  should  I  know  it  ?  " 

"  But  there  wasn't  anything  wrong  with  him,  Caro- 
line, and  why  should  you  say  '  if  there  was/  " 

"  Now,  father,  I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing  as 
suspecting  that  there  was,  and  please  don't  let  that 
worry  you." 

"  I  won't,  but  didn't  Henry  bring  a  paper  and  keep  it 
hidden  until  after  I  went  to  sleep  ?  " 

"Xo,  he  read  them  all  to  you." 

"  I  thought  he  brought  in  a  weekly  paper  and  read 
something  about  a  widow  from  Washington." 

"No,  he  didn't." 

After  a  time  he  dozed  and  then  he  began  to  mutter  : 
"It  is  easier  to  pay  than  to  explain." 

"  What  is  it,  dear  ?  "  she  asked,  not  noticing  that  he 
dozed. 

"  Did  you  speak  to  me  ?  "  he  inquired,  rousing  him- 
self. 

"  You  said  something  about  it's  being  easier  to  pay 
than  to  explain,"  she  answered. 

"  Did  I  ?  Must  have  been  dreaming.  Has  Ellen 
come  home  ?  " 

"  Not  yet,  but  I'm  looking  for  her.  Of  course  she 
started  for  home  as  soon  as  she  could  after  hearing  the 
news." 

"What  time  is  it?" 


132  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"Twenty  minutes  of  four/'  she  answered,  glancing 
at  the  clock. 

"I  wonder  why  Henry  doesn't  come." 

"He'll  be  here  soon." 

"  Has  any  one  heard  from  Mrs.  Brooks  ?  " 

"  Xo.  I  would  have  gone  over  there,  but  I  couldn't 
leave  you." 

"You  are  a  noble  woman,  Caroline."  She  was 
arranging  his  pillow  and  he  was  looking  up  at  her. 
"You  are  too  good  for  me." 

"Please  don't  say  that,"  she  pleaded. 

"  I  might  as  well  say  it  as  to  feel  it.  Isn't  it  time 
for  Henry  to  come  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  think  so.     He'll  be  here  soon,  I'm  sure." 

"  I  hope  I  shan't  have  to  lie  here  to-morrow.  I  can't, 
and  that's  all  there  is  about  it." 

He  lay  listening  with  the  nervous  ear  of  eagerness  until 
so  wearied  by  disappointing  noises  that  he  sank  into 
another  doae. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

TOLD   IT  ALL. 

TTTITHERSPOON  started.  "Ah,  it's  you.  Did  you 
' '  bring  the  evening  papers  ?  " 

"Yes,  here  they  are,"  Henry  answered. 

"  What  do  they  say  ?  Can't  you  tell  me  ?  Got  the 
papers  and  can't  tell  me  what  they  say  ?  " 

"They  say  a  great  deal,"  Henry  replied.  "Brooks 
has  made  a  confession." 

In  an  instant  Witherspoon  sat  on  the  edge  of  the 
bed,  with  the  covers  jerked  about  him.  He  opened  his 
mouth,  but  no  word  came  forth. 

"When  he  was  told  that  Mrs.  Colton  had  made  a 
statement  he  gave  up,"  said  Henry.  "  The  confession 
is  not  a  written  one,  but  is  doubtless  much  fuller  than  if 
it  were.  I  will  take  the  Star's  report.  They  are  all 
practically  the  same,  but  this  one  has  a  few  pertinent 
questions.  I  will  skip  the  introduction. 

" '  I  confess/  said  Brooks,  '  that  I  killed  the  old  man, 
but  I  did  not  murder  him.  I  was  trying  to  keep  him 
from  killing  me.  I  had  gone  into  a  losing  speculation 
and  was  in  pressing  need  of  money.  I  knew  that  it 
would  be  useless  to  ask  him  to  help  me ;  in  fact,  I  didn't 
want  him  to  know  that  I  had  been  speculating,  and  I 
decided  to  help  myself.  I  knew  that  he  kept  money  in 
the  safe  at  home  ;  I  didn't  know  how  much,  but  I 
thought  that  it  was  enough  to  help  me  out,  and  I  began 
deliberately  to  plan  the  robbery.  I  knew  that  it  would 
have  to  ta  done  in  the  most  skillful  manner,  fer  the  old 

189 


184  THE  COLOSSUS. 

man's  love  of  money  made  him  as  sharp  as  a  briar  when 
money  was  at  stake  ;  and  I  was  resolved  to  have  no  con- 
federates to  share  the  reward  and  afterward  to  keep  me 
in  fear  of  exposure.  I  wrote  a  letter,  and  using  the 
first  name  that  came  in  to  my  head,  addressed  it  to  "Dave 
Kittymunks,  General  Delivery,  Chicago."  I  don't  know 
where  I  picked  up  the  name,  and  it  makes  no  difference. 
I  ran  up  to  Milwaukee,  dropped  the  letter  in  a  mail  box 
and  was  back  here  before  any  one  knew  that  I  was  ont  of 
town.  I  disguised  myself  with  black  whiskers,  went  to 
the  postoffice  and  called  for  the  letter,  and  took  care  that 
the  delivery  clerk  should  notice  me.  Colton  supposed 
that  none  but  members  of  his  family  knew  of  the  safe  at 
home,  and  why  a  robber  should  know  must  be  made 
clear;  so,  wearing  the  same  disguise,  I  called  at  the 
house  one  day  and  told  the  servant  in  charge  that  I  had 
been  sent  to  search  for  sewer-gas.  I  showed  an  order. 
A  shrewd  colored  man  had  been  discharged  on  account 
of  some  irregularities  into  which  I  had  entrapped  him, 
and  an  ignorant  fellow  that  had  agreed  to  work  for  less 
had  just  been  put  in  his  place.  One  evening  when  our 
family  visited  the  Witherspoons  I  perfected  my  arrange- 
ments. I  sawed  the  iron  bars  at  the  window  and  placed 
the  black  coat,  with  the  Kith  m links  letter  in  the  pocket, 
as  if  the  sash  had  failed  and  caught  it.  It  was  neces- 
sary that  the  coat  should  be  found,  and  it  was  hardly 
natural  that  it  should  be  found  lying  in  the  yard.  It 
must  appear  that  in  his  haste  to  get  away  the  robber 
was  compelled  to  leave  his  coat,  and  this  could  not  be 
done  unless  he  was  forced  to  get  out  of  it,  leaving  the 
police  to  suspect  that  he  had  done  so  with  a  struggle.  I 
had  torn  one  sleeve  nearly  off.  But  the  mere  falling  of 
the  sash  on  the  tail  of  the  coat  would  not  do,  it  would 
pull  out  too  easily.  Then  I  thought  of  the  pipe.  I 
arranged  the  safe  so  that  with  a  chisel  I  could  open  it 
easily  —  it  was  an  old  and  insecure  thing,  anyway  • —  and 
then  placed  a  ladder  on  the  ground  under  the  window. 
Here  there  is  a  paved  walk,  so  there  was  no  necessity  to 
make  tracks.  Now,  there  was  but  one  thing  more,  and 
that  was  a  noise  to  sound  like  the  falling  of  the  saeb ,  and 


THE  COLOSSUS.  185 

which  was  to  wake  the  old  man  so  that  he  might  jump  np 
almost  in  time  to  catch  the  robber.  I  had  almost  for- 
gotten this,  and  now  it  puzzled  me.  The  vault-room,  a 
narrow  apartment,  is  between  the  old  man's  room  and 
mine,  and  I  could  have  left  the  window  up,  propped 
with  a  stick,  and  from  my  window  jerked  out  the  prop, 
but  the  cool  air  would  have  shown  the  old  man  that  the 
window  was  raised,  and  this  would  have  ruined  every- 
thing. Finally  I  decided  that  the  falling  of  my  own 
window  —  both  are  old-fashioned  and  are  held  up  by  a 
notched  button  —  would  arouse  him  and  that  he  would 
think  that  the  noise  came  from  the  vault-room.  I 
would  prop  it  with  the  edge  of  the  button  so  that  a 
slight  pull  on  a  string  would  throw  it.  But  another 
question  then  arose.  The  weather  was  cold,  and  why 
should  we  have  our  window  up  so  high  ?  How  should 
I  explain  to  my  wife  ?  I  would  build  a  roaring  fire  in 
the  furnace.  That  would  heat  the  room  too  hot  and 
give  me  an  excuse  to  raise  the  window.  But  she  would 
Ind  it  down.  I  could  tell  her  that  the  room  cooled  off 
anil  that  I  put  it  down.  But  I  was  quibbling  with  my- 
self. Everything  was  settled.  The  hall-door  of  the 
vault-room  is  but  a  step  from  my  own  door,  and  was 
kept  fastened  with  a  spring  lock  and  a  bolt  and  was 
supposed  never  to  be  opened.  I  drew  back  the  bolt 
and  the  catch,  and  fixed  the  catch  so  that  I  could  easily 
spring  it  when  I  went  out.  When  everything  had  thus 
been  arranged,  I  went  to  Witherspoon's  to  come  home 
with  the  folks.  The  sky  was  clouded  and  the  night  was 
very  dark.  When  we  reached  home  the  old  man  com- 
plained of  having  eaten  too  much  —  something  he  never 
had  cause  to  complain  of  when  he  ate  at  home  —  and 
said  that  he  believed  he  would  lie  down. 

" '  The  window  of  the  vault-room  was  never  raised  by 
the  old  man,  and  was  kept  fastened  down  with  an  old- 
time  cast-iron  catch.  I  had  broken  this  off;  but, 
afraid  that  he  might  examine  the  window  and  the  door, 
I  went  with  him  to  his  room.  And  when  he  went  into 
the  vault-room  to  light  the  gas,  I  stood  in  the  door  and 
talked  to  him  about  his  intended  investment,  and  I 


186  THE  COLOSSUS. 

talked  so  positively  of  the  great  profit  he  would  surely 
make  that  he  looked  at  neither  the  door  nor  the  window. 
Everything  had  worked  well.  I  bade  him  and  the  old 
lady  good  night  and  went  to  niy  own  room.  My  wife 
complained  of  the  heat,  and  I  raised  the  window,  re- 
marking that  I  would  get  up  after  a  while  and  put  it 
down.  How  dreadfully  slow  the  time  was  after  I  went 
to  bed  !  And  when  I  thought  that  every  one  must  be 
asleep,  my  wife  startled  me  by  asking  if  I  had  noticed 
how  unusually  feeble  her  mother  looked.  I  imagined 
that  some  one  was  dragging  the  ladder  from  under  the 
window,  and  once  I  fancied  that  I  heard  the  old  man 
call  me.  The  thought,  the  possibility  of  committing 
murder  never  occurred  to  me.  The  positive  knowledge 
that  I  should  never  be  discovered  and  that  I  should  get 
every  dollar  of  his  money  would  not  have  tempted  me 
to  kill  him.  I  lay  for  a  long  time  —  until  I  knew  that 
every  one  must  be  asleep.  Then  I  carefully  got  out  of 
bed.  I  struck  a  chair,  and  I  waited  to  see  if  my  wife 
had  been  awakened  by  the  noise.  No  ;  she  was  sound 
asleep.  I  tied  a  string  to  the  window  button,  got  my 
tools,  which  I  had  hidden  in  a  closet  and  which  were 
maiuly  intended  for  show  after  the  robbery  was  dis- 
covered, and  softly  stole  out.  The  hall  was  dark.  The 
old  man  hated  a  gas-bill.  I  felt  my  way  to  the  vault- 
room  door  and  gently  pushed  it  open,  a  little  at  a  time. 
When  I  got  inside  I  remembered  that  the  very  first 
thing  I  must  attend  to  during  the  excitement  which 
would  follow  the  discovery  of  the  robbery  was  to  slip 
the  bolt  back  in  its  place.  The  gas  appeared  to  be 
burning  lower  than  usual,  and  I  wondered  if  the  pros- 
pect of  parting  with  money  enough  to  make  the  invest- 
ment had  driven  the  old  man  to  one  more  turn  of  his 
screw  of  economy.  Although  I  knew  how  to  open  the 
safe,  for  previous  arrangement  had  made  it  easy,  I 
found  it  to  be  some  trouble  after  all.  But  I  got  it 
open  and  had  taken  out  the  money  drawer  when  a  noise 
startled  me.  I  sprang  up,  and  there  was  the  old  man. 
He  was  but  a  few  feet  from  me.  He  had  a  pistol.  I 
saw  it  gleam  in  the  dim  light.  I  couldn't  stand  dis- 


THE  COLOSSUS.  187 

covery,  and  I  must  protect  myself  against  being  shot. 
I  knew  that  in  the  semi-darkness  he  did  not  recognize 
me.  All  this  came  with  a  flash.  I  sprang  upon  him. 
With  one  hand  I  caught  the  pistol,  with  the  other  1 
clutched  his  throat.  I  would  choke  him  senseless  and 
run  back  to  my  room.  He  threw  up  one  hand,  threw 
back  his  head  and  freed  his  throat.  We  were  under 
the  gas  jet.  My  hand  struck  the  screw,  and  the  light 
leaped  to  full  blaze.  At  that  instant  the  pistol  fired 
and  the  old  man  fell.  I  wheeled  about  and  was  in  the 
hall ;  I  sprung  the  lock  after  me,  and  in  a  second  I 
was  in  my  own  room  —  just  as  my  wife,  dazed  with 
fright,  had  jumped  out  of  bed.  "Come,"  I  cried, 
"something  must  have  happened."  And  together  we 
ran  into  the  old  man's  room. 

"  '  During  the  excitement  which  followed  I  forgot  no 
precaution ;  I  slipped  the  bolt  back  into  place  and 
removed  the  string  from  the  button  of  my  own  window. 
My  wife  was  frantic.  'I  did  not  suspect  that  the  old 
woman  had  seen  me,  for  I  was  not  in  the  vault-room 
an  instant  after  the  pistol  fired,  and  before  that  it  was 
so  dark  that  she  could  not  have  recognized  me.  If  I 
had  thought  that  she  did  see  me ' 

" '  What  would  you  have  done  ? '  the  reporter  asked. 

" '  I  don't  know/  Brooks  answered,  '  but  it  is  not 
reasonable  to  suppose  that  I  would  have  let  her  go  away 
from  home.  I  acknowledge  that  I  did  not  care  to  see 
her  recover  —  now  that  I  am  acknowledging  everything 
—  for  at  best  she  could  be  only  in  the  way,  and  natur- 
ally, she  would  interfere  with  my  management  of  the 
estate.  But  if  I  had  been  anxious  that  she  should  die, 
I  could  have  had  her  poisoned.  Instead,  however,  I 
employed  a  quack,  who  I  knew  pretended  to  be  a  great 
physician,  and  who  I  believed  could  do  her  no  good.  In 
fact,  I  didn't  think  that  she  could  live  but  a  few  days.' 
After  pausing  for  a  moment  he  added,  '  She  must  have 
seen  me  just  as  the  light  blazed  up,  and  was  doubtless 
standing  back  from  the  door.  I  didn't  take  any  money/ 

" '  But  why  didn't  you  take  the  money  while  the  old 


188  THE  COLOSSUS. 

man  was  away  ?  Then  you  would  have  run  no  risk  of 
killing  him  or  of  being  killed.'' 

"  '  I  could  easily  have  done  this,  but  he  was  so  shrewd. 
I  wanted  him  to  believe  that  he  had  almost  caught  the 
robber. ' 

" '  Then  there  is  no  such  man  as  Dave  Kittymunks/ 
said  the  reporter. 

" '  No/  Brooks  answered. 

" '  But  Flummers,  the  reporter,  said  that  he  knew 
him.' 


.. . 


I  met  Mr.  Flummers  one  evening/  Brooks  replied, 
'and  before  we  parted  company  I  think  that  he  must  have 
had  in  his  mind  a  vague  recollection  of  having  seen  such 
a  fellow.  The  public  was  eager,  and  that  was  a  great 
stimulus  to  Mr.  Flummers/ 

" '  Did  you  feel  that  you  were  suspected  ? '  the  re- 
porter asked. 

" '  Xot  of  having  committed  the  murder,  but  I  felt 
that  I  was  suspected  of  having  had  something  to  do 
with  it.  But  I  hadn't  a  suspicion  that  any  proof  existed. 
I  could  stand  suspicion,  especially  as  I  should  receive 
large  pay  for  it.  A  number  of  men  in  this  city  are 
under  suspicion  of  one  kind  or  another,  but  it  doesn't 
seem  to  have  hurt  them  a  great  deal.  Their  checks  are 
good.  Men  come  back  from  the  penitentiary  and  build 
up  fortunes  with  the  money  they  stole.  Their  ham- 
mered brass  fronts,  and  colored  electric  lights  are  not 
unknown  to  Clark  Street/ 

" ( But  you  suffered  remorse,  of  course/  the  reporter 
suggested. 

"  '  I  think  that  there  is  a  great  deal  of  humbug  about 
the  remorse  a  man  feels/  Brooks  replied.  '  I  regretted 
that  I  had  been  forced  to  kill  the  old  man,  for  with  all 
his  stinginess  he  was  rather  kind-hearted,  but  I  had  to 
save  my  own  life.  It  is  true  that  I  didn't  have  to  com- 
mit the  robbery,  but  robbery  is  not  a  capital  crime/ 

"  '  But  the  self -defense  of  a  robber,  when  it  results  in 
a  tragedy,  is  a  murder/  the  reporter  suggested. 

" 'We'll  see  about  that/  Brooks  coolishly  replied. 


THE  COLOSSUS.  189 

" '  Do  yon  make  this  confession  with  the  advice  of 
your  lawyer  ?' 

u '  No,  but  at  the  suggestion  of  my  own  judgment. 
"When  I  was  told  that  the  old  woman  had  seen  the  kill- 
ing and  that,  of  course,  her  deposition  would  be  intro- 
duced in  court,  I  then  knew  that  it  was  worse  than  use- 
less to  protest  my  innocence.  Besides,  as  she  saw  it, 

the  tragedy  was  a  murder,  but,  as  I  confess  it' 

He  hesitated. 

"  '  It  is  what  ? '  the  reporter  asked. 

" '  Well,  that's  for  the  law  to  determine.  There  should 
always  be  some  mercy  for  a  man  who  tells  the  truth.  I 
have  done  a  desperate  thing  —  I  staked  my  future  on  it. 
But  I  have  associated  with  rich  men  so  long  that  for  me 
a  future  without  money  could  be  but  a  continuation  of 
embarrassment.  I  have  helped  to  make  the  fortunes  of 
other  men,  but  I  failed  when  I  engaged  in  speculations 
for  myself.  I  had  prospects,  it  is  true,  but  I  didn't 
know  but  Coltoii  had  arranged  his  will  so  as  to  pre- 
vent my  using  his  money  ;  and  I  had  reason  to  fear  that 
my  wife  was  in  touch  with  him/ 

" '  Has  she  been  to  see  you  ? '  the  reporter  asked. 

" '  That's  rather  an  impertinent  question/  Brooks 
replied,  'but  I  may  as  well  confess  everything.  We 
haven't  been  getting  along  very  well  together.  No,  she 
hasn't  been  to  see  me.  Not  one  of  my  friends  has  called. 
There,  gentlemen,  I  have  told  you  everything.'" 

When  the  last  word  of  the  interview  had  been  pro- 
nounced, Witherspoon  grunted  and  lay  back  with  his 
hands  clasped  under  his  head. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it  ? "  Henry  asked. 

"There's  hardly  any  room  for  thinking." 

But  he  did  think,  and  a  few  moments  later  he  said  : 
"  Of  all  the  cold-blooded  scoundrels  I  ever  heard  of,  he 
takes  the  lead.  And  just  to  think  what  I  have  done 
for  him !  I  don't  think,  though,  that  he  has  robbed  us  of 
ttmch.  He  didn't  have  the  handling  of  a  great  deal  of 


190  THE  COLOSSUS. 

cash.  Still  I  can't  tell.  My,  how  sharp  he  is  !  He 
didn't  mention  the  Colossus.  But  what  difference 
would  it  make  ?  "  He  sat  up.  ""What  need  I  care  how 
often  he  mentions  it  ?  The  public  knows  me.  Nobody 
ever  had  cause  to  question  my  credit.  Why  should  I 
have  been  worried  over  him  ?  Henry,  you  are  right ; 
my  trouble  is  the  result  of  a  physical  cause.  Caroline, 
Pm  going  in  to  dinner  with  you." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

POINTS   OUT  HER   BROTHER'S   DUTY. 

IN  the  afternoon  of  the  day  that  followed  the  publi- 
cation of  the  confession  Flummers  minced  his  way 
into  the  Press  Club.  He  wore  a  suit  of  new  clothes, 
and  although  the  weather  was  warm,  he  carried  a  silk- 
faced  overcoat.  Before  any  one  took  notice  of  him  he 
put  his  coat  and  hat  on  the  piano,  and  then,  with  a 
gesture,  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Wow  !  " 

"  Why,  here's  Kittymunks  !  Helloa,  Kit ! "  one  man 
shouted.  "  Have  you  identified  Brooks  ? "  some  one 
else  cried,  and  a  roar  followed. 

For  a  moment  Flummers  stood  smiling  at  this  rail- 
lery ;  then  suddenly,  and  as  though  he  would  shut  out 
a  humiliating  scene,  he  pressed  his  hands  across  his 
eyes.  But  his  hands  flew  off  into  a  double  gesture  — 
into  a  gathering  motion  that  invited  every  one  to  come 
into  his  confidence,  and  solemnly  he  pronounced  these 
words : 

"He  made  a  monkey  of  me." 

"I  should  say  he  did  ! "  Whittlesy  cried.  '"Oh,  you'll 
hold  me  in  the  hollow  of  your  hand,  will  you  ?  " 

Flummers  looked  at  Whittlesy  and  scalloped  the 
forerunner  of  a  withering  speech ;  but,  thoughtful 
enough  suddenly  to  remember  that  at  this  solemn  time 
his  words  and  his  eyes  belonged  not  to  one  man,  but  to 


JL92  THE  COLOSSUS. 

the  entire  company,  he  withdrew  his  gaze  from  Whit- 
tlesy,  and  in  his  broad  look  included  every  one  present. 

"  He  made  a  monkey  of  me.  He  stopped  me  on  the 
street  one  evening  —  I  had  boned  him  for  an  advertise- 
ment when  I  was  running  The  Art  of  Interior  Decora- 
tion—  and  was  so  polite  that  I  said  to  myself:  'Papa, 
here's  another  flip  man  thirsting  for  recognition.  Put 
him  on  your  staff.'  Well,  we  had  a  bowl  or  two  at 
Garry's,  and  the  fir0t  thing  I  knew  he  began  to  remind 
me  that  I  remembered  a  fellow  who  must  be  Kitty- 
munks,  and  I  said,  '  Hi,  gi,  here's  a  scoop.'  And  it  was. 
Oh,  it's  a  pretty  hard  matter  to  scoop  papa  "  —  (tapping 
his  head).  "Papa  knows  what  the  public  wants,  and 
he  serves  it  up.  Some  of  you  dry-dock  conservative 
ducks  would  have  let  it  go  by,  but  papa  is  nothing  if 
not  adventurous.  Papa  knows  that  without  adventure 
you  make  no  discoveries.  But,  wow !  he  did  make  a 
monkey  of  me.  Just  think  of  a  floor-walker  making  a 
monkey  of  papa  ! "  He  pressed  his  hand  to  his  brow. 
"  Why,  a  floor- walker  has  been  my  especial  delicacy  —  he 
has  been  my  appetizer,  my  white-meat — but,  wow  !  this 
fellow  was  a  gristle." 

"Mr.  Flummers,"  said  McGlenn,  "we  all  love  you." 

"Say,  John,  I  owe  you  two  dollars." 

"No,  Mr.  Flummers,  you  don't  owe  me  anything." 

"  But  I  borrowed  two  dollars  from  you,  John,  when  1 
started  The  Bankers'  Review" 

"No  man  can  borrow  money  from  me,  Mr.  Flummers. 
If  he  gets  money  from  me,  it's  his  and  not  mine.  WL 
all  love  you,  Mr.  Flummers,  and  your  Kittymuuks 
escapade,  so  thoroughly  in  keeping  with  our  estimate  of 
you,  has  added  strength  to  our  affection.  If  you  wish 
to  keep  friends,  Mr.  Flummers,  you  must  do  nothing 


THE  COLOSSUS.  193 

which  they  could  not  forecast  for  you.  The  develop- 
ment of  hitherto  undiscovered  traits,  of  an  unsuspected 
and  therefore  an  inconsistent  strength,  is  a  dash  of  cold 
water  in  the  face  of  friendship.  We  are  tied  to  you  by 
a  strong  rope  made  of  the  strands  of  weaknesses, 
Mr.  Flummers." 

"Oh,  no." 

"  Yes,  made  of  the  fine-spun  strands  of  weaknesses, 
Mr.  Flummers.  It  is  better  to  be  a  joss  of  pleasing 
indiscretion  than  to  be  a  man  of  great  strength,  for  the 
joss  has  no  enemies,  but  sooner  or  later  the  strong  man 
must  be  overthrown  by  the  hoard  of  weaklings  that 
envy  has  set  against  him.  Do  you  desire  something  to 
drink,  Mr.  Flummers  ?" 

"No." 

"  Now  you  place  your  feet  on  inconsistent  and  slippery 
ground,  Mr.  Flummers.  Kemember  that  in  order  to 
hold  our  love  you  must  not  surprise  us." 

"  But  I  can't  drink  now ;  I  have  just  had  something 
to  eat." 

"Beware,  Mr.  Flummers.  Inconsiderate  eating 
caused  a  great  general  to  lose  a  battle,  and  now  you 
are  in  danger.  You  may  suffer  superfluous  lunch  to 
change  our  opinion  of  you,  which  means  a  withdrawal 
of  our  love." 

"  Oh,  wait  a  minute  or  two,  John.  But  never  mind. 
Say,  there,  boy,  bring  me  a  little  liquor.  But,  -say, 
wasn't  it  funny  that  Detective  Stavers  should  give  ten 
thousand  dollars  of  that  reward  to  the  Home  for  the 
Friendless  ?  I  used  to  work  for  the  Pinkertons,  and  I 
know  all  those  guys,  and  there's  not  one  of  the  whole 
gang  that  gives  a  snap  for  charity.  There's  a  mystery 
about  it  somewhere." 

13 


194  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"  Probably  you  can  throw  some  light  on  it  as  you  did 
on  the  Kittymunks  affair/'  "Whittlesy  suggested. 

Flummers  gave  him  a  scallop.  "  Papa  still  holds  you 
in  the  hollow  of  his  hand.  Here  you  are  ;  see  ?  "  He 
put  his  finger  in  the  palm  of  his  hand.  "You  are 
right  there  ;  see  ?  And  when  I  want  you,  I'm  going  to 
shut  down,  this  way."  He  closed  his  hand.  "And 
people  will  wonder  what  papa's  carrying  around  with 
him,  but  you'll  know  all  the  time. " 

"  My,"  said  Whittlesy,  "  what  a  dangerous  man  this 
fellow  would  be  if  he  had  nerve  !  Oh,  yes,  people  will 
wonder  what  you  have  in  the  hollow  of  your  hand,  and 
sooner  or  later,  they  will  find  that  you  are  carrying  three 
shells  and  a  pea.  Get  out,  Kittymunks.  I'm  afraid 
of  you  —  too  tough  for  me." 

Flummers  waved  Whittlesy  into  oblivion,  and  con- 
tinued :  "  Old  Witherspoon  gave  up  his  check  for 
twenty  thousand,  and  there  the  reward  stops,  for  Mrs. 
Brooks  won't  give  anything  for  having  her  husband 
caught.  It  has  been  whispered  in  the  Star  office 
that  Henry  Witherspoon  had  something  to  do  with  the 
detection  of  Brooks,  and  made  Stavers  promise  that  he 
would  give  half  the  reward  to  charity.  But  I  don't 
believe  it.  Why  should  he  want  to  give  up  ten  thou- 
sand ?  But  there's  a  mystery  in  it  somewhere,  and  the 
first  thing  you  know  papa'll  get  on  the  track  of  it. 
Here,  boy,  bring  that  drink.  What  have  you  been 
doing  out  there  ?  Have  I  got  to  drink  alone  ?  Well, 
I'm  equal  to  any  emergency."  He  shuddered  as  he 
swallowed  the  whisky,  but  recovered  instantly,  and 
with  a  circular  movement,  expressive  of  his  satisfac- 
tion, rubbed  his  growing  paunch. 


THE  COLOSSUS.  195 

Witherspoon  remained  three  days  at  home  and  then 
resumed  his  place  at  the  store.  With  a  promptness  in 
which  he  took  a  pride,  he  sent  a  check  to  the  detective. 
He  did  this  even  before  he  went  down  to  the  Colossus. 
The  physician  had  urged  him  to  put  aside  all  business 
cares,  and  the  merchant  had  replied  with  a  contempt- 
uous grunt.  He  appeared  to  be  stronger  when  he  came 
home  at  evening,  and  he  joked  with  Ellen;  he  told  her 
that  she  had  narrowly  escaped  the  position  of  temporary 
manager  of  the  Colossus.  They  were  in  the  library, 
and  a  cheerfulness  that  had  been  absent  seemed  just  to 
have  returned.  Witherspoon  went  early  to  bed  and 
left  Henry  and  Ellen  sitting  there. 

"  Don't  you  think  he  will  be  well  in  a  few  days  ?  " 
the  girl  asked. 

"Yes,  now  that  his  worry  is  locked  in  jail." 

"That  isn't  so  very  bad,"  she  replied,  smiling  at  him. 
"  But  suppose  they  hang  his  worry  ?  " 

"It  may  be  all  the  better." 

"Mother  and  I  went  this  afternoon  to  see  Mrs. 
Brooks,"  said  the  girl.  "  And  she  doesn't  appear  to  be 
crushed,  either.  I  don't  see  why  she  should  be  —  they 
wouldn't  have  lived  together  much  longer  anyway.  Oh, 
of  course  she's  humiliated  and  all  that,  but  if  she 
really  cared  for  him  she'd  be  heartbroken.  She  used 
to  tell  me  how  handsome  he  was,  but  that  was  before 
they  were  married.  I  think  she  must  have  found  out 
lately  what  she  might  have  known  at  first  —  that  he 
married  her  for  money.  Oh,  she's  a  good  woman  — 
there's  no  doubt  of  that  —  but  she's  surely  as  plain  a 
creature  as  I've  ever  seen." 

"If  I  had  thought  that  she  loved  him,"  said  Henry, 
"  I  should  have  hesitated  a  long  time  before  seeking  to 


196  THE  COLOSSUS. 

fasten  the  murder  on  him.  I  may  have  only  a  vague 
regard  for  justice,  for  abstract  right  is  so  intangible, 
but  I  have  a  strong  and  definite  sympathy." 

"We  all  have/'  she  said.  "Oh,  by  the  way,"  she 
broke  off,  as  though  by  mere  accident  she  had  thought 
of  something,  "  you  superintended  the  Colossus  for  two 
whole  days,  didn't  you  ? " 

"  I  didn't  exactly  superintend  it,  but  I  stood  about 
with  an  air  of  helpless  authority." 

"  But  how  did  you  get  along  with  your  paper  during 
all  that  worry  ? "  she  asked  ;  and  before  he  answered 
she  added,  "I  don't  see  how  you  could  write  anything." 

"Worry  is  a  bad  producer,  but  a  good  critic,"  Henry 
replied.  "And  I  didn't  try  to  write  much,"  he  added. 

She  put  her  elbows  on  the  arm  of  her  chair,  rested 
her  chin  on  her  hand  and  leaned  toward  him.  "Do 
you  know  what  Fve  been  thinking  of  ever  since  I  came 
home  ?  "  she  asked. 

"Well,"  he  answered,  smiling  on  her,  "as  you 
haven't  told  me  and  as  I  am  not  a  mind-reader,  I  san't 
say  that  I  do." 

"Must  I  tell  yon?" 

"Yes." 

"And  you  won't  be  put  out  ?  " 

"  Surely  not.  You  wouldn't  want  to  tell  me  il  yon 
thought  it  would  put  me  out,  would  you  ?  " 

"No,  but  I  was  afraid  this  might."  She  hesitated. 
"  I  have  been  thinking  that  you  ought  to  go  into  busi- 
ness with  father.  Wait  a  moment,  now,  please.  You 
said  you  wouldn't  be  put  out.  You  see  how  much  he 
needs  you,  and  you  ought  to  be  willing  to  make  a  per- 
sonal sacrifice.  You" 

He  reached  over  and  put  his  hand  on  her  head.     She 


THE  COLOSSUS.  197 

looked  into  his  eyes.  "  Ellen,  there  is  but  one  thing 
that  binds  me  to  a  past  that  was  a  hardship,  but  which 
after  all  was  a  liberty  ;  and  that  one  thing  is  the  fact 
that  I  am  independent  of  the  Colossus,  the  mill  where 
thousands  of  feet  are  treading.  I  have  one  glimpse  of 
freedom,  and  that  is  through  the  window  of  my  office. 
It  isn't  possible  that  you  can  wholly  understand  me, 
but  let  me  tell  you  one  time  for  all  that  I  shall  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  store." 

She  put  his  hand  off  her  head  and  settled  back  in 
her  chair.  "I  thought  you  might  if  I  asked  you,  but 
I  ought  to  have  known  that  nothing  I  could  say  would 
have  any  effect.  You  don't  care  for  me  ;  you  don't  car 
for  any  of  us." 

"  Ellen,  it  is  but  natural  that  you  should  side  with 
father  against  me,  and  it  is  also  natural  that  I  should 
decide  in  favor  of  myself.  You  may  say  that  on  my 
part  it  is  selfishness,  and  I  may  say  that  it  is  more  just 
than  selfish.  But  you  must  not  say  that  I  don't  care 
for  you." 

"  Oh,  it  is  easy  enough  for  you  to  say  that  you  do 
care  for  me,"  she  replied.  "It  costs  but  a  breath  that 
must  be  breathed  anyway  ;  but  if  you  really  cared  for  me 
you  would  do  as  I  ask  ycu  —  as  I  beg  of  you." 

"Well,"  and  he  laughed  at  her,  "there  is  a  charming 
narrowness  in  that  view,  I  must  say.  If  I  love  you  I 
will  grant  whatever  you  may  ask  ;  and  if  you  love  me 
—  then  what  ?  Shall  I  answer  ?" 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "as  you  seem  to  know  what  answer 
will  be  most  acceptable  to  you." 

"  No,  not  the  answer  most  acceptable  to  me,  but  the 
one  that  seems  to  be  the  most  consistent.  And  if  you 
love  me,"  he  continued,  in  answer  to  the  question,  "you 


198  THE  COLOSSUS. 

will  not  ask  me  to  make  a  painful  sacrifice."  He 
looked  earnestly  at  her  and  added  :  "  I  think  you'd  bet- 
ter call  me  a  crank  and  dismiss  the  subject." 

He  expected  her  to  take  this  as  a  humorous  smoothing 
of  their  first  unpleasant  ruffle,  but  if  she  did  she 
shrewdly  deceived  him,  for  she  looked  at  him  with  the 
eoberest  of  inquiry  as  she  asked  : 

"  Do  you  really  think  you  are  a  crank  ?  " 

"  I  sometimes  think  so,"  he  answered. 

"  Isn't  it  simply  that  you  take  a  pride  in  being  differ- 
ent from  other  people.  Don't  you  strive  to  be  odd  ?  " 

"Are  you  talking  seriously  ?"  he  asked. 

"Yes." 

"Well,  then,  I  will  say  seriously  that  I  do  take  a 
pride  in  being  different  from  some  people  ?  " 

"Am  I  included?" 

"Oh,  nonsense,  girl.  What  are  you  thinking 
about  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  know  you  don't  care  for  any  of  us,"  she 
whimpered.  "You  won't  even  let  mother  show  her 
love  for  you  ;  you  try  to  surround  yourself  with  a  lordly 
mystery." 

"  If  I  have  a  mystery  it  is  far  from  a  lordly  one." 

"But  it's  not  far  from  annoying,  I  can  tell  you  that." 

"Don't  try  to  pick  a  quarrel,  little  girl." 

"Oh,  I'm  not  half  so  anxious  to  quarrel  as  you  are." 

"  All  right ;  if  that's  the  case,  we'll  get  along  smoothly. 
J-et  your  doll  out  of  the  little  trunk  and  let  us  play  with 
her." 

She  got  up  and  stood  with  her  hands  resting  on  the 
back  of  the  chair.  "If  I  didn't  have  to  like  you, 
Henry,  I  wouldn't  like  you  a  single  bit.  But  some- 


THE  COLOSSUS.  199 

how  I  can't  help  it.  It  must  be  because  I  can't  under- 
stand you." 

"  Then  why  do  you  blame  me  for  not  making  myself 
plain,  since  your  regard  depends  upon  the  uncertain 
light  in  which  you  see  me  ?" 

"'You  are  so  funny,"  she  said. 

"  Then  you  ought  to  laugh  at  me  instead  of  scolding." 

"  Indeed  !  But  if  I  didn't  scold  sometimes  you  would 
run  over  me ;  and  besides,  we  shouldn't  have  the  hap- 
piness that  comes  from  making  up  again.  Really, 
though,  won't  you  think  about  what  I  have  said  ?" 

"  I  will  think  about  you,  and  that  will  include  all  that 
you  have  said  and  all  that  you  may  say." 

"  I  oughtn't  to  kiss  you  good  night,  but  after  that  I 
suppose  I  must.  There  —  Mr.  —  Ungratefulness.  Good 
night." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE   VEEDICT. 

DURING  the  first  few  weeks  of  his  imprisonment, 
the  murderer  of  old  man  Colton  had  maintained  a 
lightsome  air,  but  as  the  time  for  his  trial  drew  near 
he  appeared  to  lose  the  command  of  that  self -hypnotism 
which  had  seemed  to  extract  gayety  from  wretched- 
ness. To  one  who  has  been  condemned  to  death  there 
comes  a  resignation  that  is  deeper  than  a  philosophy. 
Despair  has  killed  the  nerve  that  fear  exposed,  and 
nothing  is  left  for  terror  to  feed  on.  But  Brooks  had 
not  this  deadened  resignation,  for  he  had  a  hope  that 
he  might  escape  the  gallows,  and  so  long  as  there  is  a 
hope  there  is  an  anxiety.  He  had  refused  to  see  his 
wife,  for  he  felt  that  in  her  heart  she  had  condemned 
him  and  executed  the  sentence ;  but  he  was  anxious  to 
see  Witherspoon.  He  thought  that  with  the  aid  of 
that  logic  which  trade  teaches  and  which  in  its  direct- 
ness comes  near  being  an  intellectual  grace,  he  could 
explain  himself  to  the  merchant  and  thereby  whiten 
his  crime,  and  he  sent  for  him ;  but  the  messenger 
returned  with  a  note  that  bore  words  which  Brooks  had 
often  heard  Witherspoon  speak  and  which  he  himself 
so  often  had  repeated :  "Explain  to  the  law." 

The  trial  came.  In  the  expectancy  with  which  Chi- 
cago looks  for  a  new  sensation,  Brooks  had  been  almost 
forgotten  by  the  public.  His  confession  had  robbed 


THE  COLOSSUS.  201 

his  trial  of  that  uncertainty  which  means  excitement, 
and  there  now  remained  but  a  formal  ceremony,  the 
appointment  of  his  time  to  die.  The  newspapers  no 
longer  paid  especial  attention  to  him,  and  such  neglect 
depresses  a  murderer,  for  notoriety  is  his  last  intoxicant. 
It  seemed  that  an  unwarranted  length  of  time  was 
taken  up  in  the  selection  of  a  jury,  a  deliberation  that 
usually  exposes  justice  to  many  dangers  ;  and  after  this 
the  trial  proceeded.  The  deposition  of  Mrs.  Colton 
was  introduced.  It  was  a  brief  statement,  and  after 
leading  up  to  the  vital  point,  thus  concluded:  "I  must 
have  been  asleep  some  time,  when  my  husband  awoke 
me.  He  said  that  he  thought  he  heard  a  noise  in  the 
vault-room.  I  listened  for  a  few  moments  and  replied 
that  I  didn't  think  it  was  anything.  But  he  got  up 
and  took  his  pistol  from  under  the  pillow  and  went  into 
the  vault-room.  A  moment  later  I  was  convinced  that 
I  heard  something,  and  I  got  up,  and  just  as  I  got  near 
the  door  the  light  blazed  up  and  at  the  same  moment 
there  was  a  loud  report  as  of  a  pistol ;  and  then  I  saw 
my  husband  fall  —  saw  Mr.  Brooks  wheel  about  and 
run  out  of  the  room.  This  is  all  I  remember  until  I 
found  myself  lying  on  the  bed,  unable  to  move  or 
speak." 

Brooks  set  up  a  plea  for  mercy,  and  his  lawyers  were 
strong  in  the  urging  of  it,  but  when  the  judge  delivered 
his  charge  it  was  clear  that  the  plea  was  not  entertained 
by  the  court.  The  jury  retired,  and  now  the  court- 
room was  thronged.  To  idle  "men  there  is  a  fascination 
in  the  expected  verdict,  even  though  it  may  not  admit  of 
the  quality  of  speculation.  The  jurymen  could  not  be  out 
long  —  their  duty  was  well  defined  ;  but  an  hour  passed, 
and  the  crowd  began  gradually  to  melt  away.  Two 


202  THE  COLOSSUS. 

hours  —  and  word  came  that  the  jury  could  not  agree. 
It  was  now  dark,  and  the  court  was  adjourned  to  meet 
in  evening  session.  But  midnight  struck,  and  still 
there  was  no  verdict.  What  could  be  the  cause  of  this 
indecision  ?  It  was  a  mystery  outside,  but  within  the 
room  it  was  plain.  One  man  had  hung  the  jury.  In 
his  community  he  was  so  well  known  as  a  sectarian  that 
he  was  called  a  hypocrite.  He  was  not  thought  to  be 
strong  except  in  the  grasp  he  held  upon  bigotry,  but 
he  succeeded  in  either  convincing  or  browbeating  eleven 
men  into  an  agreement  not  to  hang  Brooks,  but  to  send 
him  to  the  penitentiary  for  life ;  and  this  verdict  was 
rendered  when  the  court  reassembled  at  morning. 

Witherspoon  was  sitting  in  his  office  at  the  Colossus 
when  Henry  entered.  Papers  were  piled  upon  the 
merchant's  desk,  but  he  regarded  them  not.  A  boy 
stood  near  as  if  waiting  for  orders,  but  Witherspoon 
took  no  heed  of  him.  He  sat  in  a  reverie,  and  as 
Henry  entered  he  started  as  if  rudely  aroused  from 
sleep. 

"  Have  you  heard  the  verdict  ?  "  Henry  asked. 

"By  telephone,"  Witherspoon  answered.  "Sit 
down. " 

"  No,  I  must  get  over  to  the  office.  What  do  you 
think  of  the  verdict  ?  " 

"If  the  law's  satisfied  I  am,"  Witherspoon  answered. 
"But  you  wanted  him  hanged,  didn't  you  ?  "  he  added. 

"No,  but  I  wanted  him  punished.  The  truth  is,  I 
hated  the  fellow  almost  from  the  first." 

Witherspoon  turned  to  the  boy  and  asked  :  "What 
do  you  want  ?  Oh,  did  I  ring  for  you  ?  Well,  you 
may  go. "  And  then  he  spoke  to  Henry  :  "  You  hate4 
him." 


THE  COLOSSUS.  203 

"Yes." 

"Why?" 

"Because  he  is  a  villain." 

"  But  if  you  hated  him  from  the  first,  you  hated  him 
before  you  found  out  that  he  was  a  villain  ;  and  that 
was  snap  judgment.  I  try  a  man  before  I  condemn 
him." 

"  And  I  let  a  man  condemn  himself,  and  some  men 
do  this  the  minute  I  see  them." 

"But  a  quick  judgment  is  nearly  always  wrong." 

"  Yes,  and  yet  it's  better  than  a  slow  judgment  that 
allows  itself  to  be  imposed  upon." 

"  Sometimes,"  Witherspoon  agreed  ;  and  after  a  short 
silence  he  added :  "  I  was  just  thinking  of  how  that 
fellow  imposed  on  me,  but  I  can't  quite  get  at  the  cause 
of  my  worry  over  him,  and  I  don't  understand  why  I 
should  have  been  afraid  that  he  could  ruin  me.  I  want 
to  ask  you  something,  and  I  want  you  to  tell  me  the 
exact  truth  without  fear  of  giving  offense  :  Have  you 
ever  thought  that  at  times  my  mind  was  unbalanced  ? 
Have  you  ?  " 

"  You  haven't  been  well,  and  a  sick  man's  mind  is 
never  sound,  you  know." 

"  That's  all  true  enough ;  but  do  I  remind  you  very 
much  of  your  uncle  Andrew  ? " 

"Yes,  when  you  worry." 

"I  thought  so.  I've  got  to  stop  worrying;  and  I 
believe  that  we  have  more  control  over  ourselves  than 
we  exercise.  Gome  back  at  noon  and  we'll  go  out 
together." 

"I'll  be  here,"  Henry  replied. 

Just  before  he  reached  the  office  Henry  met  John 
Richmond,  and  together  they  stepped  into  a  cigar-store. 


204  THE  COLOSSUS. 

" I've  been  over  to  your  office,"  said  Richmond.  "I 
have  important  business  with  you." 

"  All  right,  John.      Business  with  you  is  a  pleasure. " 

"I  think  this  will  be.  This  is  the  last  day  of  Sep- 
tember, and  relying  on  my  recollection,  I  know  that 
black  bass  are  about  ready  to  begin  their  fall  campaign. 
So  I  thought  we'd  better  get  on  a  train  early  to-morrow 
morning  and  go  out  into  Lake  County.  Now  don't  say 
you  are  too  busy,  for  I'm  running  away  from  a  stack  of 
work  as  high  as  my  head." 

"I'll  go." 

"Good.  We'll  have  a  glorious  day  in  the  woods. 
"We'll  forget  Brother  Brooks  and  the  fanatic  who  saved 
his  life  ;  we'll  float  on  the  lake  ;  we'll  pick  up  nuts ; 
we'll  listen  to  the  controversy  of  the  blue  jays,  and  the 
flicker,  flicker  of  the  yellowhammers  ;  we'll  study  Mr. 
"Woodpecker,  whose  judgment  tells  him  to  go  south, 
but  who  is  held  back  by  the  promising  sunshine.  The 
train  leaves  at  eight.  I'll  be  on  hand,  and  don't  you 
fail." 

"  I  won't.     I'm  only  too  anxious  to  get  out  of  town. " 

Shortly  after  Henry  arrived  at  the  office  Miss  Drury 
came  into  his  room.  "Your  sister  was  here  just  now," 
she  said. 

"Was  she?" 

"Yes,  she  came  to  wait  for  the  verdict." 

"That  reminds  me.  I  intended  to  telephone,  but 
forgot  it." 

"She  said  she  knew  you  wouldn't  think  of  it." 

"  Did  you  quarrel  ?  "  Henry  asked. 

"  Did  we  quarrel  ?  Well,  now,  I  like  that  question. 
No,  we  didn't  quarrel.  I  got  along  with  her  quite  as 
well  as  I  do  with  her  brother-  She  said  that  she  had 


THE  COLOSSUS.  205 

often  wondered  who  got  up  my  department,  but  tnat  no 
one  had  ever  told  her." 

"  She  may  have  wondered,  but  she  never  asked.  So, 
you  see,  I  intend  to  rid  myself  of  blame  even  at  the 
expense  of  my  sister." 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  she  said  it  merely  to  put  me  in  good 
humor  with  myself." 

"  But  wouldn't  it  have  been  more  in  harmony  with  a 
woman's  character  if  she'd  given  you  a  sly  cut,  a  tiny 
stab,  to  put  you  in  ill  humor  with  the  world  ?  " 

"I  hope  you  don't  mean  that,  Mr.  "Witherspoon." 

"  Why  ?    "Would  it  make  you  think  less  of  women  ?  " 

"What  egotism  !    No,  less  of  you." 

"Oh,  if  that's  the  case  111  withdraw  it — will  say  that 
I  didn't  mean  it." 

"  That's  so  kind  of  you  that  I'm  almost  glad  you  said 
it." 

She  went  back  to  her  work,  but  a  few  moments  later 
she  returned,  and  now  she  appeared  to  be  embarrassed. 
"You  must  pardon  me,"  she  said. 

"  Pardon  you  ?    What  for  ?  " 

"  For  speaking  so  rudely  just  now.  You  constantly 
make  me  forget  that  I  am  working  for  you." 

"That's  a  high  compliment.  But  I  didn't  notice 
that  you  spoke  rudely." 

"Yes,  I  said  '  what  egotism,'  and  I'm  sorry." 

"  You  must  not  be  sorry,  for  if  you  meant  what  you 
gaid,  I  deserved  it." 

"Oh,  then  you  really  did  mean  what  you  said  about 
women." 

Henry  laughed.  "  Miss  Drury,  don't  worry  over  any- 
thing I  say ;  and  remember  that  I'm  pleased  whenever 
you  forget  that  you  are  working  for  me.  You  didn't 


206  THE  COLOSSUS. 

know  that  I  was  instrumental  in  the  arreat  of  Brooks^ 
did  yon?" 

•'  Why,  no,  I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing." 

"  You  must  keep  it  to  yourself,  but  I  was,  and  why  ? 
I  hated  him.  Once  he  suggested  to  me  that  he  would 
like  to  have  you  take  lunch  with  him.  I  told  him  that 
you  didn't  go  out  with  any  one,  and  with  coldblood- 
edness he  replied,  'Ah,  she  hasn't  been  here  long.'  I 
hated  him  from  that  moment.  Don't  you  see  what  a 
narrow-minded  fellow  I  am  ?  " 

"  Narrow-minded  ! " 

"  Yes,  to  move  the  law  against  a  man  merely  because 
he  had  spoken  lightly  of  —  of  my  friend." 

She  was  leaning  against  the  door-case  and  was  looking 
down.  She  dropped  a  paper.  Henry  glanced  at  the 
window,  which  he  called  his  loop-hole  of  freedom,  for 
through  it  no  Colossus  could  be  seen.  He  turned  slowly 
and  looked  toward  the  door.  The  girl  was  gone. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

A  DAY   OF  REST. 

"PARLY  the  next  morning  Henry  and  Richmond  were 
-t^  on  a  train,  speeding  away  from  the  roar,  the  clang, 
the  turmoil,  the  smoke,  the  atmospheric  streams  of 
stench,  the  trouble  of  the  city.  They  saw  a  funeral 
procession,  and  Richmond  remarked  :  They  have  killed 
a  drone  and  are  dragging  him  out  of  the  hive,  and  as 
they  have  set  out  so  early  they  must  be  going  to  pay 
him  the  compliment  of  a  long  haul."  They  prised 
stations  where  men  who  had  spent  a  quiet  night  at 
home  paced  up  and  clown  impatiently  waiting  for  a  train 
to  whirl  them  back  to  their  daily  strife.  u  They  play 
cards  going  m  and  coming  out,"  said  Richmond,  "but 
at  noon  they  are  eager  to  cut  one  another-'s  throats. " 

They  ran  through  a  forest,  dense  and  wild-looking, 
but  in  the  wildness  there  was  a  touch  of  man's  deceiv- 
ing art.  They  crossed  a  small  river  and  caught  sight 
of  a  barefooted  boy  trying  to  steal  a  boat.  They  sped 
over  the  prairie  and  flew  past  an  old  Dutch  windmill. 
It  was  an  odd  sight,  an  un-American  glimpse  —  a  wink 
at  a  strange  land.  They  commented  on  everything 
that  whirled  within  sight  —  a  bend  in  the  road,  a 
crooked  lane,  a  tumble-down  fence.  They  were  boys. 
They  talked  about  names  that  they  held  a  prejudice 
against,  and  occasionally  one  of  them  would  say,  "No, 
I  don't  like  a  man  of  that  name." 


208  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"There,"  Eichmond  spoke  up,  "I  never  knew  a  man 
of  that  name  that  wasn't  a  wolf.  But  sometimes  one 
good  fellow  offsets  a  whole  generation  of  bad  names.  I 
never  liked  the  name  Witherspoon  until  I  met  you." 

"  How  do  you  like  DeGolyer  ?  "  Henry  asked. 

"  That's  not  so  bad,  but  it  isn't  free  from  political 
scandal.  I  rather  like  it  —  strikes  me  that  there  might 
be  a  pretty  good  fellow  of  that  name.  Let  me  see. 
We'll  get  off  about  three  miles  this  side  of  Lake  Villa 
and  go  over  to  Fourth  Lake.  The  woods  over  there 
are  beautiful. " 

"We  should  have  insisted  on  McGlenn's  coming," 
said  Henry. 

"No,"  Kichmond  replied,  " the  country  is  a  bore  to 
John.  Once  he  came  out  with  me  and  found  fault  with 
what  he  termed  the  loose  methods  of  nature.  I  pointed 
out  a  hill,  and  he  said  that  it  wasn't  so  graceful  as  a 
mound  in  the  park.  I  waved  my  hand  toward  a  pastoral 
stretch  of  valley,  and  he  said,  '  Yes,  but  it  isn't  Drexel 
Boulevard/  Art  is  the  mistress  of  John's  mind.  His 
emotions  are  never  stirred  by  a  simple  tune,  but  the 
climax  of  an  opera  tumbles  him  over  and  over  in 
ecstasy.  He  is  one  of  the  truest  of  friends,  and  he  is  as 
game  as  a  brook  trout.  He  has  associated  with  drunk- 
ards, but  was  never  drunk ;  and  during  his  early  days 
in  Chicago  he  lived  with  gamblers,  but  he  came  out  an 
honorable  man." 

"I  have  been  reading  his  novels,"  said  Henry,  "and 
in;places  he  is  as  sharp  as  broken  glass." 

"  Yes,  but  he  is  too  much  given  to  didacticism.  Out 
of  mischief  I  tell  him  that  he  sets  up  a  theory,  calls 
it  a  character,  and  talks  through  it.  But  he  is  strong, 
and  his  technique  is  fine." 


TEE  COLOSSUS.  209 

"In  Paris  he  would  have  been  a  great  man,"  Henry 
replied. 

They  got  off  at  a  milk  station  and  strolled  along  a 
road.  A  piece  of  newspaper  fluttered  on  the  ground 
in  front  of  them. 

"There  is  just  enough  of  a  breeze  to  stir  a  scandal, * 
said  Richmond,  treading  upon  the  paper. 

"When  I  find  a  newspaper  in  an  out-of-the-way 
place,"  Henry  replied,  "I  fancy  that  the  world  has  lost 
one  of  its  visiting-cards." 

They  stopped  at  a  farm-house,  engaged  a  boat, 
and  then  went  down  to  the  lake.  Nature  wore  a 
thoughtful,  contemplative  smile,  and  the  lake  was  a 
dimple.  A  flawless  day ;  an  Indian  summer  day, 
gauzed  with  a  glowing  haze.  And  the  smaller  trees,  in 
recognition  of  this  grape-juice  time  of  year,  had 
adorned  themselves  in  red.  October,  the  sweetest  and 
mellowest  stanza  in  God  Almighty's  poem  —  the 
dreamy,  lulling  lines  between  hot  Summer's  passion 
and  Winter's  cold  severity.  On  the  train  they  had 
been  boys,  but  now  they  wero  men,  looking  at  the  tran- 
quil, listening  to  the  immortal. 

"Did  you  speak  ?"  Henry  asked. 

"Xo,"  said  Richmond,  "  it  was  October. " 

They  floated  out  on  the  lake.  Mud-hens,  in  their  mid- 
summer fluttering,  had  woven  the  rushes  into  a  Gobe- 
lin tapestry.  The  deep  notes  of  the  old  frog  were  hushed, 
but  in  an  out-of-the-way  nook  the  youngster  was  try- 
ing his  voice  on  the  water-dog.  A  dragon-fly  lighted 
on  a  stake  and  flashed  a  sunbeam  from  his  bedazzled 
wing ;  and  a  bright  bug,  like  a  streak  of  blue  flame, 
zigzagged  his  way  across  the  smooth  water. 

An   hour  passed.      "They  won't  bite,"    said   Rich- 


210  THE  COLOSSUS. 

mond.  "  In  this  pervading  dreaminess  they  have  for- 
gotten their  materialism." 

"  Probably  they  are  tired  of  minnows,"  Henry  replied. 
"Suppose  we  try  frogs." 

"  No,  I  have  sworn  never  to  bait  with  another  frog. 
It's  too  much  like  putting  a  human  being  on  a  hook. 
The  last  frog  I  used  reached  up,  took  hold  of  the  hook 
and  tried  to  take  it  out.  No,  I  can't  fish  with  a  frog." 

"  But  you  would  catch  a  bass,  and  you  know  that  it 
must  hurt  him  —  in  fact,  you  know  that  it's  gener- 
ally fatal." 

"Yes,  but  it's  his  rapacity  that  gets  him  into  trouble. 
I  don't  believe  they're  going  to  bite.  Suppose  we  go 
over  yonder  and  wallow  under  that  tree. " 

"  All  right.  I  don't  care  to  catch  a  fish  now  anyway. 
It  would  be  a  disturbance  to  pull  him  out.  Our  trip 
has  already  paid  us  a  large  profit.  "With  one  exception 
it  has  been  more  than  a  year  since  I  have  seen  anything 
outside  of  that  monstrous  town.  As  long  as  the  spirit 
of  the  child  remains  with  the  man,  he  loves  the  country. 
All  children  are  fond  of  the  woods  —  the  deep  shade 
holds  a  mystery. " 

They  lay  on  the  thick  grass  under  an  oak.  On  one 
side  of  the  tree  was  an  old  scar,  made  with  an  axe,  and 
Henry,  pointing  to  the  scar,  said  :  "  To  cut  down  this 
tree  was  once  the  task  assigned  some  lusty  young  fellow, 
but  just  as  he  had  begun  his  work,  a  neighbor  came 
along  and  told  him  that  his  strong  arm  was  needed  by 
his  country ;  and  he  put  down  his  axe  and  took  up  a 
gun." 

"That  may  be,"  Richmond  replied.  "Many  a  hero 
has  sprung  from  this  land  ;  these  meadows  have  many 


THE  COLOSSUS.  211 

times  been  mowed  by  men  who  went  away  to  reap  and 
who  were  reaped  at  Gettysburg." 

After  a  time  they  went  out  in  the  boat  again,  and 
were  on  the  water  when  the  sun  lost  its  splendor  and, 
hanging  low,  fired  the  distant  wood-top.  And  now  there 
was  a  hush  as  if  all  the  universe  waited  for  the  dozing 
day  to  sink  into  sounder  sleep.  The  sun  went  down,  a 
bird  screamed,  and  nature  began  her  evening  hum. 

In  the  darkness  they  lost  the  path  that  led  through 
the  woods.  They  made  an  adventure  of  this,  and  pre- 
tended that  they  might  not  find  their  way  out  until 
morning.  They  wandered  about  in  a  laughing  aimless- 
ness,  and  there  was  a  tone  of  disappointment  in  Rich- 
mond's  voice  when  he  halted  and  said,  "Here's  the 
road. " 

They  went  to  bed  in  the  farmer's  spare  room,  where 
the  subscription  book,  flashing  without  and  dull  within, 
lay  on  the  center  table.  A  plaster-of-paris  kitten,  once 
the  idol  of  a  child  whose  son  now  doubtless  lay  in  a 
national  burial-ground,  looked  down  from  the  mantel- 
piece. There  was  the  frail  rocking-chair  that  was  never 
intended  to  be  sat  in,  and  on  the  wall,  in  an  acorn- 
studded  frame,  was  a  faded  picture  entitled  "The 
Return  of  the  Prodigal." 

Kichmond  was  sinking  to  sleep  when  Henry  called 
him. 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"I  didn't  know  you  were  asleep." 

"  I  wasn't.     What  were  you  going  to  say  ?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing  in  particular  —  was  just  going  to  ask 
what  you  think  of  a  man  who  lives  a  lie  ?  " 

"I  should  think,"  Eichmond  answered,  "that  he 
must  be  a  pretty  natural  sort  of  a  fellow." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

A  MOTHER'S  REQUEST. 

AT  dinner,  the  evening  after  Henry  had  returned 
from  the  country,  Ellen  caused  her  mother  to  look 
up  by  saying  that  Miss  Miller's  chance  was  gone. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  Mrs.  Witherspoon  asked. 
u  I  wasn't  aware  that  Miss  Miller  ever  had  any  chance, 
as  you  are  pleased  to  term  it.  But  why  hasn't  she  as 
much  chance  now  as  she  ever  had  ?  " 

"Because her  opportunity  has  been  killed." 

"  Was  it  ever  alive  ?  "  Henry  asked. 

"  Oh,  yes,  but  it  is  dead  now.  Mother,  you  ought  to 
see  the  young  woman  I  saw  at  Henry's  office  the  other 
day.  Look,  he's  trying  to  blush.  Oh,  she's  dazzling 
with  her  great  blue  eyes." 

Mrs.  Witherspoon's  look  demanded  an  explanation. 

"Mother,"  said  Henry,  "she  means  our  book- 
reviewer.  " 

"I  don't  like  literary  women,"  Mrs.  Witherspoon 
replied,  with  stress  in  the  movement  of  her  head  and 
with  prejudice  in  the  compression  of  her  lips.  "They 
are  too  —  too  uppish,  I  may  say." 

"But  Miss  Drury  makes  no  literary  pretensions," 
Henry  rejoined. 

"I  should  think  not,"  Ellen  spoke  up.  "I  didn't 
take  her  to  be  literary,  she  was  so  neatly  dressed." 

"  When  you  cease  so  lightly  to  discuss  a  noble-minded 


THE  COLOSSUS.  213 

girl  —  a  friend  of  mine  —  you  will  de  me  a  great  favor," 
Henry  replied. 

"What's  all  this?"  Witherspoon  asked.  He  had 
paid  no  attention  to  this  trifling  set-to  and  had  caught 
merely  the  last  accent  of  it. 

"Oh,  nothing,  I'm  sure,"  Ellen  answered. 

"  Very  well,  then,  we  can  easily  put  it  aside.  Henry, 
what  was  it  you  said  to-day  at  noon  about  going  away  ?  " 

"  I  said  that  I  was  going  with  a  newspaper  excursion 
to  Mexico." 

"  Oh,  surely,  not  so  far  as  that ! "  Mrs.  "Witherspoon 
exclaimed. 

"It  won't  take  long,  mother." 

"  No,  but  it's  so  far  ;  and  I  should  think  that  you've 
had  enough  of  that  country." 

"I've  never  been  in  Mexico." 

"Oh,  well,  all  those  countries  down  there  are  just 
the  same,  and  I  should  think  that  when  you  have  seen  one 
your  first  impression  is  that  you  don't  want  to  see 
another." 

"They  are  restful  at  any  rate,"  he  replied. 

"  But  can't  you  rest  nearer  home  ?  " 

"  I  could,  but  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  go  with 
this  excursion.  I'll  not  be  gone  long." 

"  "When  are  you  going  to  start  ?  " 

"To-morrow  evening." 

"So  soon  as  that?" 

"Yes ;  I  —  I  didn't  decide  until  to-day." 

"  I  don't  like  to  have  you  go  so  far,  but  you  know 
best,  I  suppose.  Are  you  going  out  this  evening  ? " 
she  asked. 

"No." 


214  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"  Well,  I  wish  to  have  a  talk  with  you  alone.  Come 
to  ray  sitting-room." 

"With  pleasure,"  he  answered. 

He  thought  that  he  knew  the  subject  upon  which  she 
had  chosen  to  talk ;  he  saw  that  she  was  worried  over 
Miss  Drury  ;  but  when  he  had  gone  into  her  room  and 
taken  a  seat  beside  her,  he  was  surprised  that  she  began 
to  speak  of  Witherspoon's  health. 

"I  know,"  she  said,  "that  he  is  getting  stronger,  but 
he  needs  one  great  stimulus  —  he  needs  you.  Please 
don't  look  at  me  that  way."  She  took  his  hand,  and 
it  was  limp  in  her  warm  grasp.  "  You  know  that  I've 
always  taken  your  part." 

"Yes,  mother,  God  bless  you." 

"  And  you  know  that  I  wouldn't  advise  you  against 
your  own  interest — you  know,  my  son,  that  I  love 
you." 

His  hand  closed  upon  hers,  and  his  eyes,  which  for  a 
moment  had  been  cold  and  rebellious,  now  were  warm 
with  the  light  of  affection  and  obedience. 

"I  will  do  what  you  ask,"  he  said. 

"  God  bless  you,  my  son. " 

She  arose,  and  hastening  to  the  door,  called : 
"  George  !  oh,  George  ! " 

Witherspoon  answered,  and  a  moment  later  he  came 
into  the  room.  "  George,  our  son  will  take  his  proper 
place." 

Henry  got  up,  and  the  merchant  caught  him  by  the 
hand.  "  You  don't  know  how  strong  this  makes  me  !  " 
He  rubbed  his  eyes  and  continued  :  "  This  is  the  first 
time  I  have  seen  you  in  your  true  light.  You  are  a 
strong  man  —  you  are  not  easily  influenced.  Sit  down; 
I  want  to  look  at  you.  Yes,  you  are  a  strong  man,  and 


THE  COLOSSUS.  215 

yon  will  be  stronger.  I  will  bny  the  Colton  interest  — 
the  Witherspoons  shall  be  known  everywhere.  To-mor- 
row we  will  make  the  arrangements." 

"I  start  for  Mexico  to-morrow." 

"  Yes,  but  you'll  not  be  gone  long.  The  trip  will  be 
good  for  you.  Let  me  have  a  chair,"  he  said.  "Thank 
you,"  he  added,  when  a  chair  Ijad  been  placed  for  him. 
"  I  am  quite  beside  myself  —  I  see  things  in  a  new  light." 
He  sat  down,  reached  over  and  took  Henry's  hands ;  he 
shoved  himself  back  and  looked  at  the  young  man. 
"Age  is  coming  on,  but  I'll  see  myself  reproduced." 

"But  not  supplanted,"  Henry  said. 

"  No,  not  until  the  time  comes.  But  the  time  must 
come.  Ah,  after  this  life,  what  then  ?  To  be  remem- 
bered. But  what  serves  this  purpose  ?  A  perpetua- 
tion of  our  interests.  After  you,  your  son  —  the  man 
dies,  but  the  name  lives.  No  one  of  any  sensibility  can 
look  calmly  on  the  extinction  of  his  name." 

He  arose  with  a  new  ease,  and  with  a  vigor  that  had 
long  been  absent  from  his  step,  paced  up  and  down 
the  room.  "  You  will  not  find  it  a  sacrifice,  my  son ;  it 
will  become  a  fascination.  It  is  not  the  love  of  money, 
but  the  consciousness  of  force.  The  lion  enjoys  his  own 
strength,  but  the  hare  is  frightened  at  his  own  weakness 
and  runs  when  no  danger  is  near.  Small  tradesmen 
may  be  ignorant,  but  a  large  merchant  must  be  wise,  for 
his  wisdom  has  made  him  large.  Trade  is  the  realiza- 
tion of  logic,  and  success  is  the  fruit  of  philosophy. 
People  wonder  at  the  achievements  of  a  man  whom  they 
take  to  be  ignorant ;  but  that  man  has  a  secret  intelli- 
gence somewhere ;  and  if  they  could  discover  it  they 
would  imitate  him.  Don't  you  permit  yourself  to  feel 
that  any  mental  force  is  too  high  for  business.  The 


216  THE  COLOSSUS. 

statesman  is  but  a  business  man.  Behind  the  great 
general  is  the  nation's  backbone,  and  that  backbone  is 
a  financier.  Let  me  see,  what  time  is  it  ?  "  He  looked 
at  his  watch.  "  Come,  we  will  all  go  to  the  theater." 

"\Vitherspoon  drove  Henry  to  the  railway  station  the 
next  evening,  and  during  the  drive  he  talked  almost 
ceaselessly.  He  complimented  Henry  upon  the  wise 
slowness  with  which  he  had  made  up  his  mind ;  there 
was  always  too  much  of  impulse  in  a  quick  decision.  lie 
pointed  his  whip  at  a  house  and  said:  "A  lonely  old 
man  lives  there ;  he  has  built  up  a  fortune,  but  his 
name  will  be  buried  with  him."  He  spoke  of  his 
religious  views.  There  must  be  a  hereafter,  but  in  the 
future  state  strength  must  rule ;  it  was  the  order  of  the 
universe,  the  will  of  nature,  the  decree  of  eternity. 
He  talked  of  the  books  that  he  had  read,  and  then  he 
turned  to  business.  In  a  commercial  transaction  there 
must  be  no  sentiment ;  financial  credit  must  be  guarded 
as  a  sacred  honor.  Every  debt  must  be  paid ;  every 
cent  due  must  be  extracted.  It  might  cause  distress, 
but  distress  was  an  inheritance  of  life. 

To  this  talk  the  young  man  listened  vaguely  ;  he  said 
neither  yes  nor  no,  and  his  silence  was  taken  for  close 
attention. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  station,  "Witherspoon  got 
out  of  the  buggy  and  with  Henry  walked  up  and  down 
the  concrete  floor  along  the  iron  fence.  It  was  here 
that  the  stranger  had  wonderingly  gazed  at  the  crowd 
as  he  held  up  young  Henry's  chain. 

"Are  you  going  through  New  Orleans  ?  " 

"Yes;  will  be  there  one  day." 

"You  are  pretty  well  acquainted  in  that  town,  I 
suppose." 


THE  COLOSSUS.  217 

"With  the  streets,"  Henry  answered. 

"  I  wish  I  could  go  with  you,  but  I  can't.  Next  year 
perhaps  I  can  get  away  oftener." 

"Yes,  if  you  have  cause  to  place  confidence  in  me." 

"I  have  the  confidence  now;  all  that  remains  for  you 
to  do  is  to  become  acquainted  with  the  details  of  your 
new  position." 

"And  there  the  trouble  may  lie." 

"  You  underrate  yourself.  A  man  who  <5an  pick  up 
an  education  can  with  a  teacher  learn  to  do  almost  any- 
thing." 

"  But  when  I  was  a  boy  there  was  a  pleasure  in  a  les- 
son because  I  felt  that  I  was  stealing  it." 

The  merchant  laughed  and  drew  Henry  closer  to  him. 
"  If  we  may  believe  the  envious,  the  quality  of  theft 
may  not  be  lacking  in  your  future  work,"  he  said. 

After  a  short  silence  Henry  remarked  :  "You  say 
that  I  am  to  perpetuate  your  name." 

"Yes,  surely." 

"  I  suppose,  then,  that  you  claim  the  right  to  direct 
me  in  my  selection  of  a  wife." 

Again  the  merchant  drew  Henry  closer  to  him.  "  Not 
to  direct,  biit  to  advise,"  he  answered. 

"A  rich  girl,  I  presume." 

"A  suitable  match  at  least." 

"  Suitable  to  you  or  to  me  ?  " 

"To  both  — to  us  all.  But  we'll  think  about  that 
after  a  while." 

"I  have  thought  about  it ;  the  girl  is  penniless." 

"What!  I  hope  you  haven't  committed  yourself." 
They  were  farther  apart  now. 

"  Not  by  what  I  have  uttered  —  and  she  may  care 


218  THE  COLOSSUS. 

nothing  for  me — but  my  actions  must  have  said  that  I 
love  her." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  '  love  her'  ?  "  the  merchant 
angrily  demanded. 

"  Is  it  possible  that  you  have  forgotten  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not,"  he  said,  softening.     "  Who  is  she  ?  " 

"A  girl  whose  life  has  been  a  devotion — an  angel." 

"  Bosh  !  That's  all  romance.  Young  man,  this  is 
Chicago,  and  Chicago  is  the  material  end  —  the  culmin- 
ation of  the  nineteenth  century." 
*  "  And  this  girl  is  the  culmination  of  purity  and  divine 
womanhood  —  of  love  ! "  He  stopped  short,  looked  at 
Witherspoon,  and  said  :  "  If  you  say  a  word  against  her 
I  will  not  go  into  the  store — I'll  set  fire  to  it  and  burn 
it  down." 

They  were  in  a  far  corner,  and  now,  standing  apart, 
were  looking  at  each  other.  The  young  man's  eyes 
snapped  with  anger. 

"Come,  don't  fly  off  that  way,"  said  the  merchant. 
"You  may  choose  for  yourself,  of  course.  Oh,  you've 
got  some  of  the  old  man's  pigheadedness,  have  you  ? 
All  right ;  it  will  keep  men  from  running  over  you." 

He  took  Henry's  arm,  and  they  walked  back  toward 
the  gate. 

"I  won't  say  anything  to  your  mother  about  it." 

"You  may  do  as  you  like." 

"  Well,  it's  best  not  to  mention  it  yet  a  while.  Will 
you  sell  your  newspaper  as  soon  as  you  return  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  All  right  Then  there'll  be  nothing  in  the  way. 
Your  train's  about  ready.  Take  good  care  of  yourself, 
and  come  back  rested.  Telegraph  me  whenever  you 
can.  Good-by." 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

A   MOMENT    OF   ARROGANCE. 

TJENRY  wandered  through  the  old  familiar  streets, 
-LA  How  vividly  came  back  the  years,  the  dreary  long 
ago  !  Here,  on  a  door-step,  he  had  passed  many  a  nod- 
ding hour,  kept  in  half-consciousness  by  the  clank  of 
the  printing-press,  waiting  for  the  dawn  and  his  bundle 
of  newspapers.  No  change  had  come  to  soften  the  truth 
of  the  picture  that  a  by-gone  wretchedness  threw  upon 
his  memory.  The  attractive  fades,  but  how  eternal  is 
the  desolate  !  Yonder  he  could  see  the  damp  wall  where 
he  used  to  hunt  for  snails,  and  farther  down  the  narrow 
street  was  the  house  in  which  had  lived  the  old  Italian 
woman.  "You  think  I'm  a  stranger,"  he  mused,  as  he 
passed  a  policeman,  "  but  I  know  all  this.  I  have  been 
in  dens  here  that  yon  have  never  seen." 

He  went  to  the  Foundlings'  Home  and  walked  up 
and  down  in  front  of  the  long,  low  building.  An  old 
woman,  dragging  a  rocking-chair,  came  out  on  the 
veranda  and  sat  down.  He  halted  at  the  gate,  stood 
for  a  moment  and  then  rang  the  bell.  A  negro  opened 
the  gate  and  politely  invited  him  to  enter.  The  old 
woman  arose  as  he  came  up  the  steps. 

"Keep  your  seat,  madam." 

"  Did  you  want  to  see  anybody  ?  "  she  asked. 

"No;  and  don't  let  me  disturb  you." 

He  gave  her  a  closer  look  and  thought  that  he  remem 

aig 


220  TEE  COLOSSUS. 

bered  her  as  the  woman  who  had  taken  him  on  her  lap 
and  told  him  that  his  father  was  dead. 

"Xo  disturbance  at  all,"  she  answered.  "Is  there 
anything  I  can  do  for  yon  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  should  like  to  look  throngh  this  place." 

"  Very  well,  but  you  may  find  things  pretty  badly 
tumbled  up.  "We're  cleaning  house.  Come  this  way, 
please." 

He  saw  the  corner  in  which  he  used  to  sleep,  and  there 
was  the  same  iron  bedstead,  with  a  fever-fretted  child 
lying  upon  it.  He  thought  of  the  nights  when  he  had 
cried  himself  to  sleep,  and  of  the  mornings  when  he  lay 
there  weaving  his  fancies  while  a  spider  high  above  the 
window  was  spinning  his  web.  There  was  the  same 
old  smell,  and  he  sniffed  the  sorrow  of  his  childhood. 

"  How  long  has  this  been  here  ?  "  he  asked. 

"He  was  brought  here  about  two  weeks  ago." 

"  I  mean  the  bedstead.  How  long  has  it  been  in  this 
corner  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  can't  say  as  to  that.  I  thought  you  meant 
the  child.  I've  been  here  a  long  time,  and  I  never  saw 
the  bedstead  anywhere  else.  It  will  soon  be  thirty  years 
since  I  came  here.  Do  you  care  to  go  into  any  of  the 
other  rooms  ?" 

"No,  thank  you." 

They  returned  to  the  veranda.  "W;:^'t  yon  sit 
down  ?"  the  old  woman  asked. 

"No,  I've  but  a  few  moments  to  stay.  By  the  way, 
some  time  ago  I  met  a  man  who  said  that  he  had  lived 
here  when  a  child.  I  was  trying  to  think  of  his  name. 
Oh,  it  was  a  man  named  Henry  DeGolyer,  I  believe. 
Do  you  remember  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  it  was  a  long  time  ago.     I  heard  somebody 


THE  COLOSSUS.  221 

say  that  he  lived  in  the  city  here,  but  he  never  came 
out  to  see  us.  Oh,  yes,  I  remember  him.  He  was  a 
stupid  little  thing,  but  that  didn't  keep  him  from 
being  mean.  He  oughtn't  to  have  been  taken  in  here, 
for  he  had  a  father." 

"  Did  you  know  his  father  ?  " 

"  Who  ?  John  DeGolyer  ?  I  reckon  I  did,  and  he 
wa'n't  no  manner  account,  nuther.  He  had^  sense 
enough,  but  he  threw  himself  away  with  liquor.  He 
painted  a  picture  of  my  youngest  sister,  and  everybody 
said  that  it  favored  her  mightily,  but  John  wa'n't  no 
manner  account." 

"  Do  you  remember  his  wife  ?  " 

"  Not  much.  He  married  a  young  creature  down  the 
river  and  broke  her  heart,  folks  said." 

"  Did  you  ever  see  her  ?  " 

His  voice  had  suddenly  changed,  and  the  old  woman 
looked  sharply  at  him. 

"  Yes,  several  times.  She  was  a  tall,  frail,  black-eyed 
creature,  and  she  might  have  done  well  if  she  hadn't 
ever  met  John  DeGolyer.  But  won't  you  sit  down  ?" 

"Xo,  thank  you,  I'm  going  now.  You  are  the 
matron,  I  presume." 

"  Yes,  sir  —  have  been  now  for  I  hardly  know  how 
long." 

"  If  I  send  some  presents  to  the  children  will  you  see 
that  they  are  properly  distributed?  " 

"Yes,  but  for  goodness' sake  don't  send  any  drums 
or  horns." 

"  I  won't.     How  many  boys  have  you  ?  " 

"Well,  we've  got  a  good  many,  I  can  tell  yon.  You 
see,  this  isn't  a  regular  foundlings'  home.  We  take  up 


222  TEE  COLOSSUS. 

poor  children  from  most  everywhere.  We've  got 
ninety-three  boys." 

"  And  how  many  girls  ?  " 

"We've  got  a  good  many  of  them,  too,  I  can  tell  you. 
Seventy-odd — seventy-five,  I  think." 

"  All  right.  Xow  don't  forget  your  promise.  Good 
flay,  madam." 

He  went  to  a  large  toy-shop  and  began  to  buy  in  a 
way  that  appeared  likely  to  exhaust  the  stock. 

"  Where  do  you  live  ?  "  asked  the  proprietor  of  the 
shop. 

"In  Chicago." 

"  What,  you  ain't  going  to  ship  these  toys  there  and 
try  to  make  anything  on  them,  are  you  ?  " 

"  Xo :  I  want  them  sent  out  to  the  Foundlings' 
Home.  What's  your  bill  ?  " 

The  man  figured  up  four  hundred  and  ten  dollars. 
"Come  with  me  to  the  bank,"  said  Henry. 

"Nearly  all  you  Chicago  men  are  rich,"  remarked 
the  toy  merchant  as  they  walked  along.  "  I've  had  a 
notion  to  sell  out  and  move  there  myself.  Chicago's 
reaching  out  after  everything,  and  Xew  Orleans  is  doing 
more  and  more  trading  with  her  every  year.  I  bought 
a  good  many  of  these  toys  from  a  Chicago  drummer. 
He  sells  everything — represents  a  concern  called  the 
Colossus." 

Henry  settled  for  the  toys,  and  then  continued  his 
stroll  about  the  city.  A  strange  sadness  depressed  him. 
The  old  woman's  words  — k<  and  broke  her  heart,  folks 
said  "  —  rang  in  his  ears.  Had  he  been  born  as  a  mere 
incident  of  nature,  or  was  it  intended  that  he  should 
achieve  something  ?  Was  he  an  accident  or  was  he 
designed  ?  When  he  thought  of  Ms  mother,  his  heart 


THE  COLOSSUS.  223 

bled ;  but  to  think  of  his  father  made  it  beat  with 
anger.  When  he  became  a  member  of  the  Witherspoon 
family,,  his  conscience  had  constantly  plied  him  with 
questions  until,  worn  with  self -argument,  he  resolved 
to  accept  a  part  of  the  advantages  that  were  thrust 
upon  him.  Why  not  all  ?  What  sense  had  he  shown 
in  his  obstinacy  ?  What  honor  had  he  served  ?  Why 
should  he  desire  to  reserve  a  part  of  a  former  self  ? 
Fortune  had  not  favored  his  birth,  bat  accident  had 
thrown  him  in  the  way  to  be  rich  and  therefore  power- 
ful. Accident !  What  could  be  more  of  an  accident 
ihan  life  itself  ?  Then  came  the  last  sting.  The 
woman  whom  he  loved,  should  she  become  his  wife, 
would  never  know  her  name;  his  children — but  how 
vain  and  foolish  was  such  a  questioning.  Was  his  name 
worth  preserving  ?  Should  he  not  rejoice  in  the  thought 
that  he  had  thrown  it  off  ?  He  stopped  on  a  corner  and 
stood  in  an  old  doorway,  where  he  had  blacked  shoes. 
"George  Witherspoon  is  right,  and  I  have  been  a  fool," 
he  said.  "  Nature  despises  the  weak.  I  will  be  rich  — 
I  am  rich." 

There  was  no  half-heartednesa  now.  Hi?  manner 
changed ;  there  was  arrogance  in  his  step.  Rich  — 
powerful !  The  world  had  been  hi?  ensmy  and  he  had 
blacked  ifs  shoes.  Now  it  should  be  his  servant,  and 
with  a  lordly  contempt  he  would  tip  iJ.  for  its  pervices. 

He  turned  into  a  restaurant,  and  in  *  masterful  and 
overbearing  way  ordered  his  dinner.  He  looked  at 
a  man  and  mused  :  "  He  puts  on  airs,  the  fool  1  I  could 
buy  him." 

Several  men  who  had  been  sitting  at  a  table  got  np  to 
go  out.  One  of  them  pointed  at  a  ragged  fp*^ow  who, 


224  THE  COLOSSUS. 

some  distance  back,  was  down  on  his  knees  scrubbing 
the  floor.  "Zeb,  see  that  man  ?" 

"Whitman?" 

"  Tho  one  scrubbing  the  floor." 

"  That  isn't  a  man — it's  a  thing.     What  of  it  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  only  he  used  to  be  one  of  the  brightest 
newspaper  writers  in  this  city." 

Henry  looked  up. 

"Yes  —  used  to  write  some  great  stuff,  they  say." 

"What's  his  name?" 

"  Henry  DeGplyer." 

Henry  sprang  to  his  feet.  He  put  out  his  hands,  for 
the  room  began  to  swim  round.  He  looked  toward  the 
door,  but  the  men  were  gone.  A  waiter  ran  to  him  and 
caught  him  by  the  arm.  "Sit  down  here,  sir." 

"No;  get  away." 

He  steadied  himself  against  the  wall.  The  ragged 
man  looked  up,  moved  his  bucket  of  water,  dipped  his 
mop- rag  into  it  and  went  on  with  his  work.  Henry 
took  a  step  forward,  and  then  felt  for  the  wall  again. 
A  death-like  paleness  had  overspread  his  face,  and  he  ap- 
peared vainly  to  be  trying  to  shut  his  staring  and  expres- 
sionless eyes.  The  waiter  took  hold  of  his  arm  again. 

"Never  mind.     I'm  all  right." 

There  were  no  customers  in  the  room.  The  scrub-man 
came  nearer.  Shudder  after  shudder,  seeming  to  come 
in  waves,  passed  over  Henry,  but  suddenly  he  became 
calm,  and  slowly  he  walked  toward  the  rear  end  of  the 
room.  The  scrub-man  moved  forward  and  was  at 
Henry's  feet.  He  reached  down  and  took  hold  of  the 
man's  arm  —  took  the  rag  out  of  his  hand.  The  man 
looked  up.  There  could  be  no  mistake.  He  was  Henry 
Witherspoon. 


THE  COLOSSUS.  225 

"Don't  yon  know  me  ?"  DeGolyer  asked. 

The  man  snatched  the  rag  and  began  again  to  scrub 
the  floor. 

DeGolyer  took  hold  of  his  arm.  "Get  ap,"  he  com- 
manded, and  the  man  obeyed  as  if  frightened. 

"  Don't  you  know  me  ?  " 

"No." 

"  Don't  you  remember  Hank  ?  " 

"  I'm  Hank,"  the  man  answered. 

"No,"  said  DeGolyer,  with  a  sob,  "you  are  Henry, 
and  I  am  Hank." 

"No,  Henry's  dead  —  I'm  Hank."  He  dropped  on 
his  knees  again  and  began  to  scrub  the  floor. 

Just  then  the  proprietor  came  in.  "What's  the 
trouble  ? "  he  asked.  "  Why,  mister,  don't  pay  any 
attention  to  that  poor  fellow.  There's  no  harm  in 
him." 

"No  one  knows  that  better  than  I,"  DeGolyer  an- 
swered. "  How  long  has  he  been  here  —  where  did  he 
come  from  ?  " 

"  He  came  off  a  ship.  The  cap'n  said  that  he  couldn't 
use  him  and  asked  me  to  take  him.  Been  here  about 
five  months,  I  think.  They  say  he  used  to  amount  to 
something,  but  he's  gone  up  here,"  he  added,  tapping 
his  head. 

"What's  the  captain's  name — where  can  I  find 
him  ?  " 

"  His  ship's  in  now,  I  think.  Go  down  to  the  levee 
and  ask  for  the  cap'n  of  the  Creole." 

"  I  will,  but  first  let  me  tell  you  that  I  have  come  for 
this  man.  I  know  his  father.  I'll  get  back  as  soon  as 
I  can." 

"All  right  And  if  you  can  do  anything  for  this 
m 


228  THE  COLOSSUS. 

poor  fellow  you  are  welcome  to,  for  he's  not  much  use 
round  here." 

DeGolyer  snatched  his  hat  and  rushed  out  into  the 
street.  Not  a  hack  was  in  sight ;  he  could  not  wait  for 
a  car,  and  he  hastened  toward  the  river.  He  began 
to  run,  and  a  boy  cried:  "Sick  him,  Tige."  He 
stopped  suddenly  and  put  his  hand  to  his  head.  "Have 
I  lost  my  mind  ?  "  he  asked  himself. 

""Well,  here  we  are  again,"  some  one  said.  DeGolyer 
looked  round  and  recognized  the  railroad  man  who  had 
charge  of  the  excursion. 

"I'm  glad  I  met  you,"  DeGolyer  replied.  "It  saves 
hunting  you  up." 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter  ?    Are  you  sick  ?  " 

"No,  I'm  all  right,  but  something  has  occurred  that 
compels  me  to  return  at  once  to  Chicago." 

"Nothing  serious,  I  hope." 

"No,  but  it  demands  my  immediate  return.  I"m 
sorry,  but  it  can't  be  helped.  Good-by." 

Again  he  started  toward  the  river.  He  *»pset  an  old 
woman's  basket  of  fruit.  She  cried  out  9*,  him,  and 
he  saw  that  she  could  scarcely  totter  after  *he  rolling 
oranges.  He  halted  and  picked  them  up  for  her.  She 
mumbled  something;  she  appeared  to  be  r  hundred 
years  old.  As  he  was  putting  the  fruit  into  the  basket, 
she  struck  a  note  in  her  mumbling  that  caused  him  to 
look  her  full  in  the  face.  He  dropped  the  oranges  and 
sprang  back.  She  was  the  hag  that  had  taken  him 
from  the  Foundlings'  Home.  He  hurried  onward. 
"  Great  God  ! "  he  inwardly  cried,  "  I  am  covered  with 
the  slime  of  the  past." 

Without  difficulty  he  found  the  captain  of  the  Creole. 
"I  don't  know  very  much  about  the  poor  fellow,"  he 


THE  COLOSSUS.  227 

said.  "I  run  across  him  nearly  six  months  ago  at  a 
little  place  called  Dura,  on  the  coast  of  Costa  Rica. 
He  was  working  about  a  sort  of  hotel,  scrubbing  and 
taking  care  of  the  horses ;  and  I  guess  I  shouldn't  have 
paid  any  attention  to  him  if  I  hadn't  heard  somebody 
say  that  he  was  an  American ;  and  it  struck  me  as 
rather  out  of  place  that  an  American  should  be  scrub- 
bing round  for  those  fellows,  and  I  began  to  inquire 
about  him.  The  landlord  said  that  he  was  brought 
there  sick,  a  good  while  ago,  and  was  left  for  dead,  but 
just  as  they  were  about  to  bury  him  he  came  to,  and 
got  up  again  after  a  few  weeks.  A  priest  told  rne 
that  his  name  was  Henry  DeGolyer,  and  I  said  that 
it  didn't  make  any  difference  what  his  name  might 
be,  I  was  going  to  take  him  back  to  the  United 
States,  so  that  if  he  had  to  clean  out  stables  and  scrub 
he  might  do  it  for  white  folks  at  least ;  for  I  am  a 
down-east  Yankee,  and  I  haven't  any  too  much  respect 
for  those  fellows.  Well,  I  brought  him  to  New 
Orleans.  I  couldn't  do  much  for  him,  being  a  poor 
man  myself,  but  I  got  him  a  place  in  a  restaurant,  where 
he  could  get  enough  to  eat,  anyhow.  I've  since  heard 
that  he  used  to  be  a  newspaper  man,  but  this  was  dis- 
puted. Some  people  said  that  the  newspaper  DeGolyer 
was  a  black-haired  fellow.  But  that  didn't  make  any 
difference  —  I  did  the  best  I  could." 

"And  yon  shall  be  more  than  paid  for  your  trouble," 
said  DeGolyer. 

"Well,  we  won't  argue  about  that.  If  you've  got 
any  money  to  spare  you'd  better  give  it  to  him." 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"Atkins  —  just  Cap'n  Atkins." 

"  Where  do  you  get  your  mail  ?  " 


228  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"  Well,  I  don't  get  any  to  speak  of.  A  letter  sent  in 
care  of  the  wharf  master  will  reach  me  all  right." 

DeGolyer  got  into  a  hack  and  was  rapidly  driven  to 
the  restaurant.  Young  Witherspoon  had  completed  his 
work  and  was  in  the  kitchen,  sitting  on  a  box  with  a 
dirty-looking  bundle  lying  beside  him. 

"Come,  Henry,"  DeGolyer  said,  taking  his  arm. 

"No;  not  Henry  —  Hank.     Henry's  dead." 

"Come,  my  boy." 

Witherspoon  looked  np,  and  closing  his  eyes,  pressed 
the  tips  of  his  fingers  against  them. 

"  My  boy." 

"He  got  up  and  turned  to  go  with  DeGolyer,  who 
held  his  arm,  but  perceiving  that  he  had  left  bis 
bundle,  pulled  back  and  made  an  effort  to  reach  it. 

"No,  we  don't  want  that,"  said  DeGolyer. 

"Yes,  clothes."      ' 

"No,  we'll  get  better  clothes.     Come  on." 

DeGolyer  took  him  to  a  Turkish  bath,  to  a  barber- 
shop, and  then  to  a  clothing  store.  It  was  now  evening 
and  nearly  time  to  take  the  train  for  Chicago.  They 
drove  to  the  hotel  and  then  to  the  railway  station. 

The  homeward  journey  was  begun,  and  the  wheels 
kept  on  repeating :  "  A  father  and  a  mother  and  a 
sister,  too."  DeGolyer  did  not  permit  himself  to 
think.  His  mind  had  a  thousand  quickenings,  but  he 
killed  them.  Young  Witherspoon  looked  in  awe  at  the 
luxury  of  the  sleeping-car ;  he  gazed  at  the  floor  as  if 
he  wondered  how  it  could  be  scrubbed.  At  first  he 
refused  to  sit  on  the  showy  plush,  and  even  after 
DeGolyer's  soothing  and  affectionate  words  had  relieved 
his  fear  of  giving  offense,  he  jumped  to  his  feet  when 
the  porter  came  through  the  car,  and  in  a  trembling 


THE  COLOSSUS.  229 

fright  begged  his  companion  to  protect  him  against 
the  anger  of  the  head  waiter. 

"  Sit  down,  my  dear  boy.  He  is  not  a  head  waiter  — 
he  is  your  servant." 

"Is  he?" 

"Yes,  and  must  wait  on  you." 

At  this  he  doubtfully  shook  his  head,  and  he  con- 
tinued to  watch  the  porter  until  assured  that  he  was.not 
offended,  and  then  timidly  offered  to  shake  hands  with 
him. 

When  bed-time  came  young  Witherspoon  refused  to 
take  off  his  clothes.  He  was  afraid  that  some  one 
might  steal  them,  and  no  argument  served  to  reassure 
him  ;  and  even  after  he  had  lain  down,  with  his  clothes 
on,  he  took  off  a  red  neck-tie  which  he  had  insisted 
upon  wearing,  and  for  greater  security  put  it  into  his 
pocket.  DeGolyer  lay  beside  him,  and  for  a  time 
Witherspoon  was  quiet,  but  suddenly  he  rose  up  and 
began  to  mutter. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Henry  ?  " 

"  "Not  Henry  —  Hank.     Henry's  dead. " 

"Well,  what's  the  matter,  Hank  ?  " 

"Want  my  hat." 

"It's  up  there.     We'll  get  it  in  the  morning." 

"Want  it  now." 

DeGolyer  got  his  hat  for  him,  and  he  lay  with  it  on 
his  breast.  How  dragging  a  night  it  was  !  Would  the 
train  never  run  from  under  the  darkness  out  into  the 
light  of  day  ?  And  sometimes,  when  the  train  stopped, 
DeGolyer  fancied  that  it  had  run  ahead  of  night  and 
perversely  was  waiting  for  the  darkness  to  catch  up. 
The  end  was  coming,  and  what  an  end  it  might  be  ! 

The  day  was  dark  and  rainy ;  the  landscape  was  a  flat 


230  THE  COLOSSUS. 

dreariness.  A  buzzard  flapped  his  heavy  wings  and  flew 
from  a  dead  tree  ;  a  yelping  dog  ran  after  the  train ;  a 
horse,  turned  out  to  die,  stumbled  along  a  stumpy  road. 

It  was  evening  when  the  train  reached  Chicago. 
DeGolyer  and  young  Witherspoon  took  a  cab  and  were 
driven  to  a  hospital.  The  case  was  explained  to  the 
physician  in  charge.  He  said  that  the  mental  trouble 
might  not  be  due  to  any  permanent  derangement  of  the 
brain ;  it  was  evident  that  he  had  not  been  treated 
properly.  The  patient's  nervous  system  was  badly 
shattered.  The  case  was  by  no  means  hopeless.  He 
could  not  determine  the  length  of  time  it  might  require 
to  restore  him  to  physical  health,  which  meant,  he 
thought,  a  mental  cure  as  well. 

"  Three  months  ?  "  DeGolyer  asked. 

"That  long,  at  least." 

"  I  will  leave  him  with  you,  and  I  urge  you  not  to 
stop  short  of  the  highest  medical  skill  that  can  be  pro- 
cured in  either  this  country  or  in  Europe.  As  to  who 
this  young  man  is  or  may  turn  out  to  be,  that  must  be 
kept  as  a  secret.  I  will  call  every  day.  Henry  " 

"Hank." 

"All  right,  Hank.  Now,  I'm  going  to  leave  you 
here,  but  I'll  be  back  soon." 

"  No ;  they'll  steal  my  clothes  ! "  he  cried,  in  alarm. 

"  No,  they  won't ;  they'll  give  you  more  clothes. 
You  stay  here,  and  I  will  bring  you  something  when  I 
come  back." 

DeGolyer  went  to  a  hotel. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

A  MOST  PECULIAR  FELLOW. 

T?ARLY  the  next  morning  George  Witherspoon  was 
-l^  pacing  the  sidewalk  in  front  of  his  house  when 
DeGolyer  came  up.  The  merchant  was  startled. 

"  Why,  where  did  you  come  from  ! "  he  exclaimed. 

"I  thought  it  best  to  get  back  as  soon  as  possible," 
DeGolyer  answered,  shaking  hands  with  him.  "The 
truth  is,  I  met  a  man  who  caused  me  to  change  my 
plans.  He  wants  to  buy  my  paper,  and  so  I  came  back 
with  him." 

'•'Good  enough,  my  dear  boy.  We'll  go  down  imme- 
diately after  breakfast  and  close  with  him  one  way  or 
another.  I  am  delighted,  I  assure  you.  Why,  I 
missed  you  every  minute  of  the  time.  See  how  I  have 
already  begun  to  rely  on  you  ?  I  haven't  said  a  word 
to  your  mother  about  that  angel.  Hah,  you'd  burn 
down  the  Colossus,  would  you  ?  Why,  bless  my  life, 
you  rascal." 

"  Who  is  that  ? "  Ellen  cried  as  they  entered  the 
hall ;  and  with  an  airy,  early-morning  grace  she  came 
running  down  the  stairway.  "Oh,  nobody  can  place 
any  confidence  in  what  you  say,"  she  declared,  kissing 
him.  "  Goodness  alive,  man,  you  look  as  if  you  hadn't 
slept  a  wink  since  you  left  home."  Just  then  Mrs. 
Witherspoon  came  out  of  the  dining-room.  "Mother,''' 
Ellen  called,  "  here's  one  of  your  mother's  people,  and 
he's  darker  than  ever." 


232  THE  COLOSSUS. 

Mrs.  Witherspoon  fondly  kissed  him  before  she  gave 
Ellen  the  usual  look  of  gentle  reproach.  "  Yon  must 
have  known  how  much  we  missed  you,  my  son,  and  that 
is  the  reason  you  came  home.  And  you're  just  in  time 
for  breakfast.  Ellen,  will  you  please  get  out  of  the 
wsy  ?  And  what  do  you  mean  by  saying  that  he's  darker 
than  ever  ?"  Here  she  gave  DeGolyer  an  anxious  look. 
a  But  you  are  not  ill,  are  you,  my  son  ?  " 

"  111 ! "  Witherspoon  repeated,  with  resentment.  "  Of 
course  he's  not  ill.  What  do  you  mean  by  ill  ?  Do  you 
expect  a  man  to  travel  a  thousand  miles  and  then  look 
like  a  rose  ?  Is  breakfast  ready  ?  Well,  come  then. 
We've  got  business  to  attend  to.w 

"  Now,  as  to  this  man  who  wants  to  buy  my  paper,"  said 
DeGolyer,  when  they  were  seated  at  the  table,  "  let  me 
tell  you  that  he  is  a  most  peculiar  fellow,  and  if  he  finds 
that  I  am  anxious  to  sell,  he'll  back  out.  Therefore  I 
don't  think  you'd  better  see  him,  father." 

"  Nonsense,  my  dear  boy ;  I  can  make  him  buy  in 
three  minutes." 

"  That  may  be,  but  you  might  scare  him  off  in  one 
minute.  He's  an  old-maidish  sort  of  fellow,  and  is 
easily  frightened.  You'd  better  let  me  work  him." 

"  All  right,  but  don't  haggle.  There  are  transactions 
in  which  men  are  bettered  by  being  beaten,  and  this  is 
one  of  them." 

"  Yes,  but  it  isn't  well  to  let  eagerness  rush  you  into 
a  folly." 

"  Ah,  but  in  this  affair  folly  was  at  the  other  end  — 
at  the  buying." 

"Then,  with  a  wise  sale,  let  us  correct  that  folly." 

"  All  right,  but  without  haggling.  When  are  you  to 
meet  this  man  again  ?" 


THE  COLOSSUS.  233 

"At  noon." 

"  And  when  shall  I  see  yon  ?  " 

"Immediately  after  the  deal  is  clossd." 

On  DeGolyer's  part  the  day  was  spent  in  the  spin- 
ning  of  the  threads  of  excuses.  He  might  explain  a 
week's  delay,  but  how  was  he  to  account  for  a  three 
months'  put-off  ?  And  if  at  the  end  of  that  time  young 
Witherspoon's  case  should  be  pronounced  hopeless  what 
course  was  then  to  be  taken  ? 

He  did  not  see  George  Witherspoon  again  until  din- 
ner-time. The  merchant  met  him  with  a  quick  inquiry. 
"We  will  discuss  it  in  the  library,  father,"  DeGolyer 
answered. 

"  But  can't  you  tell  me  now  whether  or  not  it  ts  come 
out  all  right?" 

"  I  think  it's  all  right,  but  you  may  not.  But  let  us 
wait  until  after  dinner." 

When  they  went  into  the  library  Witherspoon  hastily 
lighted  his  cigar,  and  sat  down  in  his  leather-covered 
chair.  "  Well,  how  did  it  come  out  ?  "  he  asked. 

DeGolyer  did  not  sit  down.  Evidently  he  expected 
to  remain  in  the  room  but  a  short  time. 

"I  told  you  that  he  was  a  very  peculiar  fellow." 

"  Yes,  I  know  that.     What  did  you  do  with  him  ?  " 

"  We'll,  the  deal  isn't  closed  yet.  He  wants  to  go  into 
the  office  and  work  three  months  before  he  decides." 

"  Tell  him  to  go  to  the  devil ! "  Witherspoon  ex- 
claimed. 

"No,  I  can't  do  that." 

"  Why  can't  you  ?  Do  you  belong  to  him  ?  Have 
you  a  consideration  for  everybody  but  me  ?  " 

"I  very  nearly  belong  to  him." 

"  You  very  nearly  belong  to  him  ! "  Witherspoon  cried. 


234  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"  What  in  the  name  of  God  do  yon  mean  ?    Have  you 
lost  your  senses  ?  " 

"  My  senses  are  all  right,  but  my  situation  is  peculiar." 

"  I  should  think  so.     Henry,  I  don't  want  to  fly  all  to 

pieces.     Lately,   and  with  your  help,   I  have    pulled 

myself  strongly  together,  and  now  I  beg  of  you  not  to 

pull  me  apart." 

"  Father,  some  time  ago  you  said  that  we  have  more 
control  over  ourselves  than  we  exercise  ;  and  now  I  ask 
you  to  exert  a  little  of  that  control.  The  sense  of  obli- 
gation has  always  been  strong  in  me,  and  I  feel  that  it 
is  largely  developed  in  you.  I  said  that  I  very  nearly 
belonged  to  this  man,  and  I  will  tell  you  why  ;  and 
don't  be  impatient,  but  listen  to  me  for  a  few  min- 
utes. A  number  of  years  ago  uncle  left  me  in  New 
Orleans  and  went  on  one  of  his  trips  to  South  America. 
He  had  not  been  gone  long  when  yellow  fever  broke 
out.  It  was  unusually  fatal,  and  the  city,  though 
long  accustomed  to  the  disease,,  was  panic-stricken.  I 
was  one  of  the  early  victims.  Every  member  of  the 
family  I  boarded  with  died  within  a  week,  and  I  was 
left  in  the  house  alone.  This  man,  this  peculiar  fellow, 
Nat  Parker,  found  me,  took  charge  of  me  and  did  not 
leave  me  until  I  was  out  of  danger.  Of  course,  there 
was  no  way  to  reward  him — you  can  merely  stammer 
your  gratitude  to  the  man  who  has  saved  your  life.  He 
told  me  that  the  time  might  come  when  I  could  do  him 
a  good  turn.  Well,  I  met  him  the  other  day  in  New 
Orleans,  and  I  incidentally  spoke  of  my  intention  to 
sell  my  paper.  He  said  that  he  would  buy  it.  I  told 
him  that  I  would  make  him  a  present  of  it,  but  he 
resentfully  replied  that  he  was  not  a  beggar.  I  came 
back  with  him  to  Chicago,  and  afraid  that  any  inter- 


THE  COLOSSUS.  235 

ference  might  offend  him,  I  told  yon  that  yon  shonld 
hare  nothing  to  do  with  the  transaction.  He  has  an 
ambition  to  become  known  as  a  newspaper  man,  and 
he  foolishly  believes  that  I  am  a  great  journalist.  So 
he  declares  that  for  three  months  he  must  serve  under 
me.  What  could  I  say  ?  Could  I  tell  him  that  I  would 
dispose  of  the  paper  to  some  one  else  ?  I  was  compelled 
to  accept  his  terms.  I  insisted  that  he  should  live  with 
us  during  the  time,  but  he  objected.  He  swore  that 
he  must  not  be  introduced  to  any  of  my  people —  to  be 
petted  like  a  dog  that  has  saved  a  child's  life.  And 
there's  the  situation." 

Witherspoon's  cigar  had  fallen  to  the  floor.  Some 
time  elapsed  before  he  spoke,  and  when  he  did  speak 
there  was  an  unnatural  softness  in  his  voice.  "  Strange 
story,"  he  said.  "No  wonder  you  are  peculiar  when 
you  have  been  thrown  among  such  peculiar  people.  If 
your  friend  were  a  sane  man,  we  could  deal  with  him  in 
a  sensible  manner,  but  as  he  is  not  we  must  let  him 
have  his  way.  But  suppose  that  at  the  end  of  three 
months  he  is  tired  of  the  paper  ?  " 

"  I  will  sell  it  or  give  it  away.  But  there'll  be  no 
trouble  about  that.  It's  a  valuable  piece  of  property, 
and  I  will  swear  to  you  that  if  at  the  end  of  that  time 
Henry  Witherspoon  does  not  go  into  the  Colossus  with 
his  father,  it  will  be  the  father  who  keeps  him  out. 
Now  promise  me  that  you  won't  worry." 

Witherspoon  got  up  and  took  Henry's  hand.  "You 
have  done  the  best  you  could,  my  son.  It  is  peculiar 
and  unbusinesslike,  but  we  can't  help  that." 

"Will  you  explain  to  mother  ?" 

"Yes,  but  the  more  I  look  at  it  the  stranger  it 
seems.  I  don't  know,  however,  that  it  is  so  strange 


236  THE  COLOSSUS. 

*- 

after  all.  He  is  simply  a  chivalrous  crank  of  the  South, 
and  we  must  humor  him.  But  I'll  be  glad  when  all 
this  nonsense  is  over." 

DeGolyer  sat  in  his  room,  smoking  his  pipe.  He 
looked  at  his  reflection  in  the  mirror,  and  said : 
"  Oh,  what  a  liar  you  are  !  But  your  day  for  truth  is 
coming." 


CHAPTER  XXXIIL 

THE  TIME  WAS   DRAWING   NEAR. 

ONE  morning,  when  DeGolyer  called  at  the  hospital, 
young  Witherspoon  said  to  him  :  "  You  are  Hank, 
and  I'm  Henry."    And  this  was  the  first  indication  that 
his  mind  was  regaining  its  health. 

Every  day  George  Witherspoon  would  ask  :  "  Well, 
how's  your  peculiar  friend  getting  along  ? "  And  one 
evening,  when  he  made  this  inquiry,  DeGolyer  answered  : 
"He  is  so  much  pleased  that  he  doesn't  think  it  will 
take  him  quite  three  months  to  decide." 

"  Good  enough,  but  why  doesn't  he  decide  now  ?  " 

"Because  it  would  hardly  be  in  keeping  with  his 
peculiar  methods.  I  haven't  questioned  him,  but 
occasionally  he  drops  a  hint  that  leads  me  to  believe 
that  he's  satisfied." 

DeGolyer  was  once  tempted  to  tell  Richmond  and 
McGlenn  that  he  was  feeling  his  way  through  a  part  that 
had  been  put  upon  him,  but  with  this  impulse  came  a 
restraining  thought — the  play  was  not  yet  done.  They 
were  at  luncheon,  and  McGlenn  had  declared  that 
DeGolyer  was  sometimes  strangely  inconsistent. 

"  I  admit  that  I  am,  John,  and  with  an  explanation  I 
could  make  you  stare  at  me." 

"  Then  let  us  have  the  explanation.  Man  was  made 
to  stare  as  well  as  to  mourn." 

•  "  No,  not  now ;  but  it  will  come  one  of  these  days, 
though  perhaps  not  directly  from  me." 


238  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"Ah,  yon  have  killed  a  mysterious  lion  and 
made  a  riddle ;  but  where  is  the  honey  you  found  in  the 
carcass  ?    Give  us  the  explanation." 

"  Not  now.  But  one  of  these  bleak  Chicago  days  yon 
and  Richmond  will  sit  in  the  club,  watch  the  whirling 
snow  and  discuss  me,  and  you  both  will  say  that  you 
always  thought  there  was  something  strange  about  me." 

"And  we  do,"  McGlenn  replied.  "Here's  a  million- 
aire's son,  and  he  has  chosen  toil  instead  of  ease.  Isn't 
that  an  anomaly,  and  isn't  such  an  anomaly  a  strange 
thing?  But  will  the  outcome  of  that  vague  something 
cause  us  to  hold  you  at  a  cooler  length  from  us — will 
that  '  I  told  you  so '  result  in  your  banishment  ?  Shall 
we  send  a  Roger  Williams  over  the  hills  ?  " 

"  John,  what  are  you  trying  to  get  at  ?  "  Richmond 
asked. 

McGlenn  looked  serenely  at  him.  "Have  you 
devoured  your  usual  quota  of  pickles  ?  If  so,  writhe  in 
your  misery  until  I  have  dined." 

"  I  writhe,  not  with  what  I  have  eaten,  but  at  what  I 
see.  Is  there  a  more  distressing  sight  than  an  epicure 
—  or  a  gourmand,  rather  —  with  a  ragged  purse  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes ;  a  stuffer,  a  glutton  without  a  purse." 

Richmond  laughed.  "  Hunger  may  force  a  man  to 
apparent  gluttony,"  he  said,  "and  a  sandbagger  may 
have  taken  his  purse  ;  and  all  on  his  part  is  honesty. 
But  there  is  pretense  —  which  I  hold  is  not  honest  — 
in  an  effort  to  be  an  epicure." 

"Ah,  which  you  hold  is  not  honest.  A  most  rare 
but  truthful  avowal,  since  nothing  you  hold  is  honest." 

"In  my  willingness  to  help  the  weak,"  Richmond 
replied,  "  I  have  held  your  overcoat  while  you  put  it 


THE  COLOSSUS.  239 

"And  it  was  not  an  honest  covering  until  yon  took 
yonr  hands  off." 

"Neither  did  it  cover  honesty  until  some  other  man 
put  it  on  by  mistake/'  Richmond  rejoined. 

DeGolyer  went  to  his  office,  and  Richmond  and 
McGlenn,  wrangling  as  they  walked  along,  betook 
themselves  to  the  Press  Club.  "I  tell  you,"  said 
McGlenn,  as  they  were  going  up  the  stairs,  "that  he 
needs  our  sympathy.  He  has  suffered,  but  having 
suffered,  he  is  great." 

Thus  the  weeks  were  sprinkled  with  light  incidents, 
and  thus  the  days  dripped  into  the  past  —  and  a  desig- 
nated future  was  drawing  near. 

"  Well,"  Witherspoon  remarked  one  Sunday  morning, 
''the  time  set  by  your  insane  friend  will  soon  be  up." 

"Yes,  within  a  week,"  DeGolyer  replied. 

"I  should  think  that  he  is  more  in  need  of  apart- 
ments in  an  asylum  than  of  a  newspaper ;  but  if  he 
thinks  he  knows  his  business,  all  right;  we  have 
nothing  to  say.  What  has  he  agreed  to  give  for  the 
paper  ?  " 

"  Xo  price  has  been  fixed,  but  there'll  be  no  trouble 
about  that." 

"I  hope  not." 

"Did  you  understand  mother  and  Ellen  to  say 
they  were  going  out  shopping  to-morrow  afternoon  ?  " 
DeGolyer  asked. 

"Yes,  but  what  of  it?" 

"  There's  this  of  it :  If  they  decide  to  go,  I  want  you 
to  meet  me  here  at  three  o'clock." 

"  Why  can't  you  meet  me  at  the  store  ?  " 

"  Don't  I  tell  you  that  my  friend  is  peculiar  ?  " 

«0h,  it's  to  meet  him,  eh  ?    All  right,  I'll  be  here." 


240  THE  COLOSSUS. 

His  play  was  nearing  the  end.  To-morrow  he  must 
snatch  "  the  make-up  "  off  his  face.  He  felt  a  sadness 
that  was  more  than  half  a  joy.  He  should  be  free  ;  he 
should  be  honest,  and  being  honest,  he  could  summon 
that  most  sterling  of  all  strength,  a  manly  self-respect. 
He  had  thought  himself  strong,  but  had  found  himself 
weak.  Tne  love  of  money,  which  at  first  had  seemed 
so  gross,  at  last  had  conquered  him.  This  thought  did 
not  sting  him  now;  it  softened  him,  made  him  look 
with  a  more  forgiving  eye  upon  tempted  human  nature. 
But  was  it  money  that  had  tempted  him  to  turn  from  a 
purpose  so  resolutely  formed  ?  Had  not  Witherspoon's 
argument  and  Ellen's  persuasion  left  him  determined  to 
reserve  one  refuge  for  his  mind  —  one  closet  wherein  he 
could  hang  the  cast-off  garment  of  real  self  ?  Then  it 
was  the  appeal  of  that  gentle  woman  whom  he  called 
mother  ;  it  was  not  money.  But  after  yielding  to  the 
mother  he  had  found  himself  without  a  prop,  and  at 
last  he  had  felt  a  contempt  for  a  moderate  income  and 
had  boasted  to  himself  that  he  could  buy  a  man.  And 
for  this  he  reproached  himself.  How  grim  was  that 
something  known  as  fate,  how  mockingly  did  it  play 
with  the  children  of  men,  and  in  that  mockery  how 
cold  a  justice  !  But  he  should  be  free,  and  that  thought 
thrilled  him. 

In  the  afternoon  he  went  over  to  the  North  Side, 
and  along  a  modest  street  he  walked,  looking  at  the 
houses  as  if  hunting  for  a  number.  He  went  up  a  short 
flight  of  wooden  steps  and  rang  the  bell  of  the  second 
flat.  The  hall  door  was  open,  and  a  moment  later  he 
saw  Miss  Drury  at  the  head  of  the  stairs. 

"  Why,  is  that  you,  Mr.  Witherspoon  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  may  I  come  up  ?  " 


THE  COLOSSUS.  241 

"  What  a  question  !  Of  course  you  may,  especially 
as  I  am  as  lonesome  as  I  can  be." 

He  was  shown  into  a  neat  sitting-room,  where  a 
canary  bird  "  fluttered  "  his  hanging  cage  up  and  down. 
A  rose  was  pinned  on  one  of  the' white  curtains.  The 
room  was  warmed  by  a  stove,  and  through  the  isinglass 
the  playful  flame  could  be  seen.  She  brought  a 
"tidied"  rocking-chair,  and  smiling  in  her  welcome, 
said  that  as  this  was  his  first  visit,  she  must  make 
him  comfortable.  "Don't  you  see,"  she  added,  "that 
you  constantly  make  me  forget  that  I  am  working  for 
you  ?  " 

"And  don't  you  know,"  he  answered,  "that  you  are 
most  pleasing  when  you  do  forget  it  ?  But  I  am  to 
infer  that  you  wouldn't  give  me  the  rocking-chair  if  yon 
didn't  forget  that  you  were  working  for  me  ?  " 

"  You  must  infer  nothing,"  she  said.  "  But  am  I 
most  pleasing  when  I  forget  ?  Then  I  will  not  remem- 
ber again.  It  is  a  woman's  duty  to  ft  >  pleasing ;  and 
her  advantage,  too,  for  when  she  ceases  to  please  she 
loses  many  of  her  privileges." 

DeGolyer  went  to  the  window,  t  ok  the  rose,  brought 
it  to  her  and  said  :  "Put  this  in  your  hair." 

She  looked  up  as  she  took  the  rose ;  their  eyes  met 
and  for  a  moment  they  lived  in  the  promise  of  a 
delirious  bliss.  She  looked  down  as  she  was  putting 
the  flower  in  her  hair.  He  spoke  an  idle  word  that 
meant  more  than  old  Wisdom's  speech,  and  she  answered 
with  a  laugh  that  was  nearly  a  sob.  He  thirsted  to  take 
her  in  his  arms,  to  tell  her  of  his  love,  but  his  time  was 
not  yet  come  —  he  was  still  Henry  Witherspoon. 

"  How  have  you  spent  the  day  ?  "  she  asked. 

"Fin  thinking  of  to-morrow." 


242  THE  COLOSSUS 

"And  will  to-morrow  be  so  important  ?" 

"Yes,  the  most  important  day  of  my  life." 

"Oh,  tellmeabontit." 

"I  will  to-morrow." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  wait,  but  I  wish  you 
would  tell  me  just  a  little  bit  of  it." 

"  To  tell  a  little  would  be  to  tell  all.  The  story  is 
not  yet  complete." 

"  Oh,  is  it  a  story  ?  And  is  it  one  that  you  are 
writing  ?  " 

"No,  one  that  I  am  living.     It  is  a  strange  tale." 

"I  know  it  must  be  interesting,  but  what  has  to- 
morrow to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"It  will  be  completed  then." 

"  I  don't  understand  you  ;  I  never  did.  I've  often 
thought  you  the  saddest  man  I  have  ever  seen,  and  I've 
wondered  why.  You  ought  not  to  be  sad — fortune  is 
surely  a  friend  of  yours.  You  live  in  a  grand  house, 
and  your  father  is  a  power  in  this  great  community. 
All  the  advantages  of  this  life  are  within  your  reach ; 
and  if  you  can  find  cause  to  be  sad,  what  must  be  the 
condition  of  people  who  have  to  struggle  in  order  to 
live!" 

"  The  summing-up  of  what  you  say  means  that  I  ought 
to  be  thankful." 

"Yes,  you  were  stolen,  it  is  true,  but  you  were  re- 
stored, and  therefore,  by  contrast  and  out  of  gratitude, 
you  should  be  happier  than  if  you  had  never  been  taken 
away. " 

"All  that  is  true  so  far  as  it  is  true,"  he  replied. 
"  And  let  me  say  that  I'm  not  so  sad  as  you  suppose. 
Do  yon  care  if  I  smoke  here  ?  " 

"Notatall." 


THE  COLOSSUS.  243 

He  lighted  a  cigar  and  sat  smoking  in  silence.  A  boy 
shouted  in  the  hall,  a  dog  barked,  and  a  cat  sprang  up 
from  a  doze  under  a  table,  looked  toward  the  door,  gave 
himself  a  humping  stretch,  and  then  lay  down  again. 

Whenever  DeGolyer  looked  at  the  girl,"  a  new  expres- 
sion, the  rosy  tinge  of  a  strange  confusion,  flew  to  her 
tountenauce.  His  talk  evoked  a  self-possessed  reply, 
but  over  his  silence  an  embarrassment  was  brooding. 
She  seemed  to  be  in  fear  of  something  that  sweetly 
she  expected. 

"I  may  not  be  at  the  office  to-morrow  until  evening, 
but  will  you  wait  for  me  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"And  when  I  come,  I'll  be  myself." 

"  Be  yourself  ?    Who  are  you  now  ?  " 

"Another  man." 

"Oh,  then  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you." 

"I  don't  know  as  to  that.  You  may  have  strong 
objections  to  my  real  self." 

"You  are  so  mysterious." 

"To-day,  yes;  to-morrow,  no." 

He  was  leaning  back,  blowing  rings  of  smoke,  and 
was  looking  up  at  them. 

"Perhaps  I  shouldn't  say  it,"  she  said,  "but  during 
the  last  three  months  you  have  appeared  stranger  than 
ever." 

"Yes,"  he  drawlingly  replied,  "for  during  the  last 
three  months  it  was  natural  that  I  should  be  stranger 
than  ever." 

"I  do  wish  I  knew  what  you  mean." 

"  And  when  you  have  been  told  you  may  wish  you 
had  never  known." 

*Js  it  so  bad  as  that?" 


244  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"Worse." 

"Worse  than  what  ?" 

"Than  anything  yon  imagine." 

"  Oh,  yon  are  simply  trying  to  tease  me,  Mr.  Wither- 
spoon." 

"  Do  yon  think  so  ?  Then  we'll  say  no  more  about 
it." 

"  Oh,  bnt  that's  worse  than  ever.  Well,  I  don't  care ; 
I  can  wait." 

They  talked  on  subjects  in  which  neither  of  them 
was  interested,  but  sympathy  was  in  their  voices.  Grad- 
ually —  yes,  now  it  seemed  for  months  —  they  had  been 
floating  toward  that  fern-covered  island  in  the  river  of 
life  where  a  thoughtless  word  comes  back  with  an  echo 
of  love ;  where  the  tongue  may  be  silly,  but  where  the 
eye  holds  a  redeemed  soul,  returned  from  God  to 
gaze  upon  the  only  remembered  rapture  of  this  earth. 

She  went  with  him  to  the  head  of  the  stairway. 
"Don't  leave  the  office  before  I  come,"  he  called,  look- 
ing back  at  her. 

"You  know  I' won't,"  she  answered. 


CHAPTEE  XXXIV. 

TOLD   HIM   A   STORY. 

AT  the  appointed  time,  the  next  day,  George  Wither- 
spoon  was  waiting  in  his  library.  DeGolyer  came 
in  a  cab,  and  when  he  got  out,  he  told  the  driver  to 
wait. 

"Where  is  your  friend  ?"  Witherspoon  asked  ae 
DeGolyer  entered  the  room. 

"He'll  be  here  within  a  few  minutes." 

"Confound  him,  I'm  getting  sick  of  his  peculiar- 
ities." 

The  merchant  sat  down ;  DeGolyer  stood  on  the 
hearth-rug.  The  time  was  come,  and  he  •  had  been 
strong,  but  now  a  shiver  crept  over  him. 

"My  friend  told  me  a  singular  story  to-day." 

"I  don't  doubt  it ;  and  if  his  stories  are  as  singular 
as  he  is,  they  must  be  marvelous." 

"This  story  is  marvelous,  and  I  think  it  would 
interest  you.  I  will  give  it  to  you  briefly.  There  were 
two  young  men  in  a  foreign  country" 

"  I  wish  he  was  in  a  foreign  country.  I  can't  wait 
here  all  day." 

"  He'll  be  here  soon.  These  two  friends  were  on  their 
way  to  the  sea  coast,  and  here's  where  it  will  strike  you. 
One  of  them  had  been  stolen  when  he  was  a  child,  and 
was  now  going  back  to  his  parents.  But  before  they 
reached  the  coast,  the  rich  man's  son  —  as  we'll  call  the 


246  THE  COLOSSUS. 

one  who  had  been  stolen  —  was  stricken  with  a  fever. 
No  ship  was  in  port,  and  his  friend  took  him  to  a  hotel 
and  got  a  doctor  for  him." 

"Wish  you'd  hand  me  a  match/'  said  Witherspoon. 
"My  cigar's  out.  Thank  you." 

"  Got  a  doctor  for  him,  but  he  grew  worse.  Some- 
times he  was  delirious,  but  at  times  his  mind  was 
strangely  clear;  and  once,  when  he  was  rational,  he 
told  his  friend  that  he  was  going  to  die.  He  didn't 
appear  to  care  very  much  so  far  as  it  concerned  himself, 
but  the  thought  of  the  grief  that  his  death  would  cause 
his  parents  seemed  to  lie  as  a  cold  weight  upon  his 
mind.  And  it  was  then  that  he  made  a  most  peculiar 
request.  He  compelled  his  friend  to  promise  to  take 
his  name ;  to  go  to  his  home ;  to  be  a  son  to  his  father 
and  mother.  His  friend  begged,  but  had  to  yield. 
Well,  the  rich  man's  son  died,  we'll  suppose,  and  the 
poor  fellow  took  his  name  on  the  spot.  He  had  to  leave 
hurriedly,  for  a  father  and  a  mother  and  a  sister  were 
waiting  in  a  distant  home.  A  ship  that  had  just  come 
was  ready  to  sail,  and  a  month  might  pass  before  the 
landing  of  another  vessel.  He  went  to  these  people  as 
their  son  " 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Witherspoon,  "and  fell  in  love  with 
the  sister,  and  then  had  to  tell  his  story." 

"No,  he  didn't.  He  loved  the  girl,  but  only  as  a 
brother  should.  He  was  not  wholly  acceptable  to  his 
father,  but" 

"Ah,  that's  all  very  well,"  said  Witherspoon,  "but 
what  proof  had  he  ?  " 

DeGolyer  met  Witherspoon'e  careless  look  and  held  it 
with  a  firm  gaze.    And  slowly  raising  his  hand, 
*  Ht  held  up  a  gold  chain.'' 


THE  COLOSSUS.  247 

Witherspoon  sprang  to  his  feet  and  exclaimed  :  "  My 
Sod,  he's  crazy  ! " 

"Wait!" 

The  merchant  had  turned  toward  the  door.  He  halted 
and  looked  back. 

"  George  Witherspoon  " 

"  I  thought  so  —  crazy.     Merciful  God,  he's  mad  ! " 

"  Will  you  listen  to  me  for  a  moment  —  just  a  moment 
—  and  I  will  prove  to  you  that  I'm  not  crazy.  I  am  not 
your  son  —  my  name  is  Henry  DeGolyer.  Wait,  I  tell 
you ! "  Witherspoon  had  staggered  against  the  door- 
case. "  I  am  not  your  son,  but  your  son  is  not  dead. 
I  took  his  place  ;  I  thought  it  a  promise  made  to  a  dying 
man." 

"What!"  he  whispered.  His  voice  was  gone. 
"You  — you" 

DeGolyer  ran  to  him  and  eased  him  into  his  chair. 
"Your  son  is  here,  and  the  man  who  has  brought 
nothing  but  ill  luck  will  leave  you.  I  tried  to  soften 
this,  b«t  couldn't."  Witherspoon's  head  shook  as  he 
looked  up  at  him.  "Wait  a  moment,  and  I  will  call 
him.  No,  don't  get  up." 

DeGolyer  hastened  to  the  front  door,  and  standing 
on  the  steps,  he  called  :  "Henry  !  oh,  Henry  !" 

"All  right,  Hank." 

Young  Witherspoon  got  out  of  the  cab  and  came  up 
the  steps. 

"He  is  waiting  for  you,  Henry."  And  speaking  to 
the  footman,  DeGolyer  added:  "There's  nothing  the 
matter.  Send  those  girls  about  their  business." 

Young  Witherspoon  followed  DeGolyer  into  the 
library.  The  merchant  was  standing  with  his  shaky 


248  THE  COLOSSUS. 

hands  on  the  back  of  a  chair.     He  stepped  forvard  and 
tried  to  speak,  but  failed. 

•'  I'm  yonr  son.  Hank  did  as  I  told  him.  It's  all 
right.  Fve  had  a  fever  —  he's  going  to  fall,  Hank  ! " 

They  eased  him  down  into  his  leather-covered  chair. 

"I  see  it  now,"  the  old  man  muttered.  "Yes,  I  can 
see  it.  Come  here." 

The  young  man  leaned  over  and  put  his  arms  about 
his  father's  neck.  "I  will  go  into  the  stoie  with  yon 
when  I  get  just  a  little  stronger  —  I  will  do  anything 
you  want  me  to.  I've  had  an  awful  time  —  awful  — 
but  it's  all  right  now.  Hank  found  me  in  New  Orleans, 
scrubbing  a  floor;  but  it's  all  right  now." 

"  I'll  get  him  some  brandy,"  said  DeGolyer. 

"No,"  Witherspoon  objected,  "I'll  be  myself  in  a 
minute.  Never  was  so  shocked  in  my  life.  Who  ever 
heard  of  such  a  thing  ?  Of  course  you  couldn't  soften 
it.  Let  me  look  at  you,  my  son.  How  do  I  know  what 
to  believe  ?  No,  there's  no  mistake  now." 

He  got  up,  and   holding  the   young   man's  hands 
stood  looking  at  him.     "  Who's  that  ?  "  he  asked. 

They  heard  voices.  Mrs.  Witherspoon  and  Ellen 
were  coming  down  the  hall.  DeGolyer  stepped  hastily 
to  the  door. 

"Oh,  what  are  you  doing  here?"  Ellen  cried.  "I 
saw  somebody  —  Miss  Miller.  She  didn't  say  so,  but  I 
know  that  she  wants  me  to  kiss  you  for  her,  and  I 
will." 

"  Ellen !  "  Witherspoon  exclaimed,  and  just  then  she 
saw  that  a  stranger  was  present. 

"Excuse  me,"  she  said. 

DeGolyer  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  as  Mrs.  Wither- 
spoon came  up  he  held  out  his  other  hand  to  her.  He 


THE  CCLOSSUS.  249 

Jed  them  both  to  the  threshold  of  the  library,  gently 
drew  them  into  the  room,  and  quickly  stepping  out, 
closed  the  door  and  hastened  upstairs. 

As  he  entered  his  room  he  thought  that  he  heard  a 
cry,  and  he  listened,  but  naught  save  a  throbbing 
silence  came  from  below.  He  sat  down,  put  his  arms  on 
the  table,  and  his  head  lay  an  aching  weight  upon  his 
arms.  After  a  time  he  got  up,  and  taking  his  travel- 
ing-bag from  a  closet,  began  to  pack  it.  There  was  his 
old  pipe,  still  with  a  ribbon  tied  about  the  stem.  He 
waited  a  long  time  and  then  went  down-stairs.  The 
library  door  was  closed,  and  gently  he  rapped  upon  it. 
Witherspoon's  voice  bade  him  enter. 

Mrs.  "Witherspoon  was  sitting  on  a  sofa;  young 
Henry  was  on  his  knees,  and  his  head  was  in  her  lap. 
Witherspoon  and  Ellen  were  standing  near. 

"He  is  like  my  father's  people,"  the  mother  said, 
fondly  stroking  his  hair.  "All  the  Springers  were 
light."  She  looked  at  DeGolyer,  and  her  eyes  were 
soft,  but  for  him  they  no  longer  held  the  glow  of  a 
mother's  love.  DeGolyer  put  down  his  bag  near  the 
door. 

"Mr.  Witherspoon,  I  hardly  know  what  to  say.  I 
came  to  this  house  as  a  lie,  but  I  shall  leave  it  as  a 
truth.  I"  - 

"Hank  !"  young  Henry  cried,  getting  up,  "you  ain't 
going  away.  You  are  going  to  stay  here." 

He  ran  to  DeGolyer,  seized  his  hand,  and  leading 
him  to  Ellen,  said:  "I  have  caught  you  a  prince. 
Take  him."  And  DeGolyer,  smiling  sadly,  replied,  "I 
love  her  as  a  brother."  She  held  out  her  hands  to  him. 
"I  could  never  think  of  you  as  anything  else,"  she  said. 


250  THE  COLOSSUS. 

"But  you  must  not  leave  us,"  Mrs.  Witherspoon 
declared,  coming  forward. 

"Yes,  my  mission  here  is  ended." 

"You  shan't  go,  Hank,"  young  Witherspoon  cried. 

"Henry,"  said  DeGolyer,  "I  did  as  you  requested. 
Now  it  is  your  time  to  obey.  Keep  quiet !  "  He  stood 
erect ;  he  had  the  bearing  of  a  master.  He  turned  to 
Witherspoon.  "Here  is  a  check  for  the  amount  of 
money  you  advanced  me,  Avith  interest  added. " 

Witherspoon  stepped  back.  "I  refuse  to  take  it," 
he  said. 

"  But  you  shall  take  it.  I  have  sold  the  paper  at-a 
profit,  and  it  has  made  money  almost  from  the  first.  Do 
as  I  tell  you.  Take  this  check." 

The  merchant  took  the  check,  and  it  shook  in  his 
hand.  DeGolyer  now  addressed  Mrs.  Witherspoon. 
"  You  have  indeed  been  a  mother  to  me.  No  gentler 
being  ever  lived,  and  till  the  day  of  my  death  I  shall 
remember  you  with  affection." 

"Oh,  this  is  all  so  strange  !"  she  cried,  weeping. 

"  Yes,  but  everything  is  strange,  when  we  come  to 
think  of  it.  God  bless  you.  Sister," — Ellen  gave  him 
her  hands, —  "good-by." 

He  kissed  the  girl,  and  then  kissed  Mrs.  Witherspoon. 
Henry  came  toward  him,  but  DeGolyer  stopped  him 
with  a  wave  of  his  hand.  "  My  dear  boy,  I'm  not  going 
out  of  the  world.  No,  you  mustn't  grab  hold  of  me. 
Stand  where  you  are.  You  shall  hear  from  me.  Mr. 
Witherspoon,  this  time  you  must  get  up  a  statement 
without  my  help  —  I  mean  for  the  newspapers.  I  know 
that  I  have  caused  you  a  great  deal  of  worry,  but  it  is  a 
pretty  hard  matter  to  live  a  lie  even  when  it  is  imposed 
as  a  duty.  By  the  way,  a  poor  sea  captain,  Atkins  is 


THE  COLOSSUS.  251 

his  name,  brought  Henry  from  Dura.  I  wish  you  would 
send  him  a  check,  care  Wharf  master,  New  Orleans." 

"I  will." 

"Good- by,  Mr.  Witherspoon." 

"Henry  DeGolyer,"  said  Witherspoon,  grasping  his 
hand,  "you  are  the  most  honorable  man  I  ever  met." 

"  There,  now  ! "  DeGolyer  cried,  holding  up  his  hand 
—  they  all  were  coming  toward  him  —  "do  as  I  tell  you 
and  remain  where  you  arc." 

He  caught  up  his  bag  and  hastened  out.  "To  the 
Star  office,"  he  said  to  the  cabman. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

CONCLUSION. 

"  T'D  begnn  to  think  that  you'd  forgotten  to  come," 

A  said  Miss  Drury,  as  DeGolyer  entered  the  room. 
She  was  sitting  at  her  desk,  and  bits  of  torn  paper  were 
scattered  about  her. 

"I'm  sorry  that  I  kept  yon  waiting  so  long,"  he 
replied.  He  did  not  sit  down,  but  stood  near  her. 

"Oh,  it  hasn't  been  so  very  long,"  she  rejoined. 
"Why,  how  yon  have  changed  since  yesterday,"  she 
added,  looking  at  him. 

"  For  the  worse  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  For  the  better  ;  you  look  more  like  the  heir  to  a 
great  fortune." 

He  smiled.  "  I  am  an  heir  to  freedom,  and  that  is 
the  greatest  of  fortune." 

"  Oh,  now  you  are  trying  to  mystify  me  again ;  and 
you  said  that  to-day  you  would  make  everything  clear. " 

"And  I  shall.  Laura"  —  she  looked  up  quickly  — 
"Laura,"  he  repeated,  "this  is  my  last  day  in  this 
office.  I  have  sold  the  paper,  and  the  new  owner  will 
take  charge  to-morrow." 

"  I'm  sorry,"  she  said,  and  then  added  :  "  But  on 
my  part  that  is  selfishness.  Of  course  you  know  what 
is  best  for  yourself." 

"  I  told  you  yesterday  that  my  story  would  be  com- 
pleted to-day.  It  is,  and  I  will  tell  it." 

The  latest  edition  had  left  the  press,  and  there  was 
scarcely  a  sound  in  the  building.  The  sharp  cry  of  the 
newsboy  came  from  the  street. 


THE  COLOSSUS.  253 

In  telling  her  his  story  he  did  not  begin  with  his 
early  life,  but  with  the  time  when  first  he  met  young 
Witherspoon.  It  was  a  swift  recital;  and  he  sought 
not  to  surprise  her ;  he  strove  to  tone  down  her  amaze- 
ment. 

"  And  to-day  I  took  his  son  to  him.  I  saw  the  quick 
transfer  of  a  mother's  love  and  of  a  father's  interest  — 
I  saw  a  girl  half -frightened  at  the  thought  that  upon  a 
stranger  she  had  bestowed  the  intimacies  of  a  sister's 
affection.  I  had  made  so  strong  an  effort  to  be  hon- 
orable with  myself,  at  least ;  to  persuade  myself  that 
I  was  fulfilling  an  honest  mission,  but  had  failed,  for  at 
last  I  had  fallen  to  the  level  of  an  ordinary  hypocrite  ; 
I  had  found  myself  to  be  a  purse-proud  fool.  When  I 
went  into  that  restaurant  my  sympathies  were  dead, 
and  when  that  man  pointed  at  the  poor  menial  and  said 
that  his  name  was  Henry  DeGolyer  " 

"No,  no,"  she  said,  hiding  her  face,  "your  sympa- 
thies were  not  dead.  You  —  you  were  a  hero." 

"I  was  simply  a  frozen-blooded  fool,"  he  replied. 
"  And  now  I  must  tell  you  something,  but  I  know  that 
it  will  make  you  despise  me.  My  father  was  a  beast  — 
he  broke  my  mother's  heart.  The  first  thing  I  remem- 
ber, her  dead  arms  were  about  me  and  a  chill  was  upon 
me  —  I  knew  not  the  meaning  of  death,  but  I  was  ter- 
rorized by  its  cold  mystery.  I  cried  out,  but  no  one 
came,  and  there  in  the  dark,  with  that  icy  problem,  I 
remained  alone  " 

"  Oh,  don't,"  she  cried,  and  her  hands  seemed  to  flut- 
ter in  her  lap.  She  got  up,  and  putting  her  arms  on 
the  top  of  the  desk,  leaned  her  head  upon  them. 

"  How  could  I  despise  you  for  that  ?  "  she  sobbed. 

"Not  for  that,"  he  bitterly  answered,  "but  for  this: 


254  THE  COLOSSUS. 

I  was  taken  to  the  Foundlings'  Home  — was  taken  from 
that  place  to  become  the  disgraceful  property  of  an 
Italian  hag.  She  taught  me,  compelled  me  to  be  a 
thief.  Once  she  and  some  ruffians  robbed  a  store  and 
forced  me  to  help  them.  I  ought  to  have  died  before 
that.  She  demanded,  that  I  should  steal  something 
every  day,  and  if  I  didn't  she  beat  me.  I  got  up  early 
one  morning  and  robbed  her.  I  took  a  handful  of 
money  out  of  her  drawer  and  ran  away.  But  in  the 
street  a  horror  seized  me,  and  I  threw  the  money  in  the 
gutter  and  fled  from  it.  Don't  you  see  that  I  was  born 
a  thief  ?  But  I  have  striven  so  hard  since  then  to  be 
an  honorable  man.  But  don't  try  not  to  pity,  to  despise 
me.  You  can't  help  it.  But,  my  God,  I  do  love  you  ! " 

She  turned  toward  him  with  a  glory  in  her  eyes,  and 
he  caught  her  in  his  arms. 

The  old  building  was  silent,  and  the  shout  of  the 
newsboy  was  far  away. 

"Angel  of  sweet  mercy,"  he  said,  still  holding  her 
in  his  arms,  "let  us  leave  this  struggling  place.  I 
know  of  an  old  house  in  Virginia  —  it  is  near  the  sea, 
and  rest  lies  in  the  woods  about  it.  Let  us  live  there, 
not  to  dream  idly,  but  to  work,  to  be  a  devoted  man 
and  his  happy  wife.  Come." 

He  took  her  hand,  and  they  went  out  into  the  hall. 
The  place  was  deserted,  tho  elevator  was  not  running, 
and  down  the  dark  stairway  he  led  her  —  out  into  the 
light  of  the  street. 


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